Luke.
Every time she thought about him, her heart broke a little more. He was walking into a trap. José Serrano was going to kill him. She wouldn’t get the chance to tell him how much he meant to her. How sorry she was for treating him the way she had. For not trusting him. She should’ve done it in the basement of that horrid place, but she was so scared. All she cared about was getting out of there.
She loved him. More than anything.
If only she’d given him a chance to tell her the truth. If she’d begged him to stay just a little longer. They could’ve told each other how they really felt instead of marring their final time together with harsh words and misunderstanding.
And now she was going to lose him forever.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, her emotions making her words come out more strained than she’d wanted.
“We gonna see how strong you are, counselor,” Ronan said in an anxious tone behind her.
She arched her neck to look up at him. “What do you mean? What does me being strong have to do with any of this?”
He glanced down at her, his gold front teeth gleaming. “Everything.”
The bed turned right at the end of the hallway and then they hung another quick right into a large room. Impersonal white walls and tiled floors.
The bed halted in the middle of the sterile room. She pulled against her restraints to see him. “Tell me,” she demanded. “What do I need to be strong for?”
No answer. Footsteps rushed back in. More than one person by the sound of it.
Cass turned to see Ronan and…
“Miguel?”
At the sound of his name, the young man spun. He glanced in her direction, seeming to not recognize her, then once it clicked his jaw dropped.
“What’s she doin’ here?” Miguel asked with eyebrows gathered at the center of his forehead. “You said you’d leave her out of this.”
Ronan’s mouth twisted in arrogance with a slight hint of regret. “Changed my mind.”
“You can’t do that.” He rattled off a long string of words in Spanish. There was one in there she knew all too well. Muerte.
Death.
Ronan’s body language was relaxed, a hand in his baggy jeans and most of his weight on his heels. He said something back to Miguel in a casual tone about the Hermandad Eterna, before Miguel’s jaw locked down and his fists clenched.
“Get on with it,” Ronan said, clipped. He gripped the back of Miguel’s neck, then placed his forehead against his brother’s. “For the brotherhood.”
Miguel squeezed his lips together like he was trying to hold in whatever argument was on its way, then he gave a quick drop of his chin.
Pulling away from his brother, Miguel approached a counter and opened a drawer. His back was to them, so she couldn’t see what he pulled out. His arms worked. When he turned, he held a syringe filled with bright red liquid.
Like blood.
Cass gasped. The drugs. “Miguel, what are you doing?”
He didn’t look at her, but his shoulders tensed.
Ronan stood back with a pristine white tennis shoe crossed over the other, smiling.
Miguel approached Cass with an unreadable expression.
Would Cass be lucky enough to survive? Or would she end up like Eduardo and so many others? She liked to think she was strong. But what did strength have to do with taking drugs? It probably wasn’t like having physical strength to run a marathon or bench-press a certain amount of weight. Or have the mental strength to not give up in a dire situation. Cass imagined that the strength needed for the drugs was a lot different. Though she still didn’t know how.
And that’s what worried her.
The unknown.
That was obviously the point. If one took drugs already knowing whether they’d live or die, it would change their decision, wouldn’t it? Eduardo, for example. If he’d known he wasn’t “strong enough” before taking the drugs, he surely wouldn’t have gone through with it. No one would willingly sign up to die.
Would they?
Cass turned on Ronan. Screw him and his strength. She was done with his obsession to prove he was more than he was. He’d convinced Miguel that he wasn’t good enough to go to college and had ruined the lives of hundreds of other young men.
She was done letting him think he’d won.
“Just how strong are you, Ronan? How many doses have you had? Probably only one. If you even dared that.”
A flash of nerves coasted over his face as he slid a look to his brother. Something passed between them—an unspoken message that told Cass everything she needed to know.
“Ah, so the truth comes out.” He was nothing but a scared little boy who needed to feed off the power of hurting others. He was drunk on it. He didn’t have an issue ruining everyone else’s lives as long as he was the one still standing in the end.
Ronan got a handle on himself pretty quickly, anger rolling across his features in rapid waves. He stepped forward and cracked his palm against Cass’s face.
Fire exploded across her cheek, but she ignored the pain, refusing to show him weakness. “What a big, strong man you are hitting a woman,” she said. “Really showing your brother what real strength is, aren’t you?”
Again, he glanced at Miguel. Ronan lifted his hand into the air, gearing up to strike her again, but Miguel spoke.
“Ro,” he yelled. “Stop.”
Ronan thought it over for a second, then lowered his hand. But his smile suggested he wasn’t done. Approaching the same counter Miguel had gone to moments earlier, Ronan ripped a drawer open and swiped at the contents inside until he found what he was looking for.
He turned holding another bottle of red liquid. Snatching the syringe out of Miguel’s hand, he emptied the contents of the bottle into it.
Ronan walked toward her with a savage gleam in his eyes and his gold teeth shining back in predatory anticipation.
Miguel stepped in front of Ronan. “Don’t. Ain’t nobody gonna withstand two at the same time.”
“Maybe she can,” he said, trying to step around his little brother.
Miguel held firm. “Your game’s over, man. You ain’t gotta kill people just to show how strong you are. They died, you lived. That’s it.”
She almost laughed out of pity for the guy. How sad that he needed to hurt others in order to elevate himself.
“Outta my way, Miguel,” Ronan said.
“No,” his brother said back. “I ain’t gonna let you do this. She won’t survive, Ro. You know that.”
Ronan tilted his head and looked at Cass, his lips curving. “I know.” He brought his attention back to Miguel. “Now get outta my fucking way.” He gave his brother a shove and took the last two steps toward her. He stood at the edge of her bed, lowering the needle to her arm, when Miguel dipped his head and checked Ronan in the side with his shoulder.
“What the—?” Ronan scrambled to stay on his feet. The needle went flying across the room, skidding across the tile by the door.
Ronan spun to his brother, grabbing him in a bear hug and driving him backward. He slammed Miguel into the opposite wall. Miguel’s head thumped against the hard surface.
Cass gasped. “Miguel!”
The young man winced, but didn’t give in. He threw his head forward and cracked it against his brother’s nose.
“Fuck!” Ronan shouted, covering his nose, which started to drip with blood.
“Shit,” Miguel said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, Ro. Damn, man. I’m sorry. I—”
Whatever Miguel was going to say was cut off by a swift right hook to his chin. Miguel’s face sliced to the left and he faltered back a step. He swayed, his weight shifting from leg to leg. His eyes glazed as they traveled all over the room. He reached an arm out, but grasped only air, before he tumbled forward, his knees dropping to the ground first, then stomach and cheek.
“Miguel,” she said. “Miguel, get up.” She zapped a look at Ron
an. “What is wrong with you? That’s your brother!”
Ronan stepped over Miguel, not even bothering to look down, all his attention focused on Cass. He bent to retrieve the syringe from the ground and traveled the three steps to her side.
“Let’s get back to business, counselor.”
…
As soon as the team entered the front door, they heard a scream. It was muted, but not any less terrifying.
Ash glided a look at Luke, who tensed.
It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her.
He repeated it to himself over and over as they increased their pace down the main corridor, rifles at the ready, clearing rooms on the way through the hospital.
The place was tidy. Lights were on. It looked fully operational, except there weren’t any nurses or doctors buzzing past them. No patients in gowns. No machines beeping. No bleach smell.
They came to the end of the hallway and turned right. Then voices carried from a few doors down. Two guys by the sound of it. Then a woman.
Cass. Please let it be Cass. She’s here and she’s alive.
The team increased speed, glancing into empty passing rooms.
Luke had always considered himself an easygoing guy. Aside from Reese, who was as detached as a robot, Luke was usually the calmest of the group. Nothing really riled him up and he could keep cool under pressure.
That was before Cass. Before he had something worth losing. After his mom died, he’d held people at a safe distance so he didn’t have to worry about getting attached. If he didn’t care, he didn’t have to fear their loss, right?
He sure as hell feared it now. Feared it like his next breath. His next heartbeat.
Shouts erupted down the hall. Things rattled and crashed. More screams. Grunts and groans of pain. The squeal of sneakers quickly changing direction on the finished floor.
Luke increased his speed, racing against his erratic pulse. He pulled away from the group, a major no-no in protocol, but he didn’t give a shit about following rules when Cass’s life could be on the line.
“Calder,” Ash snarled quietly over the COMs. “Get your ass back here now.”
He ignored the order.
“Goddamn it,” his team leader said. “Stop. You’re gonna get somebody killed.”
He faltered a step, a blip of hesitation almost making him see reason.
Nope. Not until he knew Cass was all right.
He went even faster.
“Fucking asshole,” Tyke grumbled in his ear.
He was about four doors away from the sound of the scuffle when someone stepped in front of him. Luke skidded to a halt.
José Serrano stood in the hallway, hands clasped behind his back like he was about to ask Luke about the weather or the football scores from last night.
Luke heightened his senses, keeping his rifle ready. “There you are, you son of a bitch.”
“Luke Calder,” Serrano said. “So very nice to meet you.”
“Wish I could say the same.” Luke kept his attention locked on the red laser dot at Serrano’s chest. “Show me your goddamn hands.”
Not bothered by the threat, Serrano said, “I have so enjoyed meeting your Cassandra. Such a beautiful and bright young woman she is.”
Cassandra. His pulsed roared, blood rushing to every extremity in an attempt to prepare for attack.
“Where is she?” Luke asked. “I held up my end of the deal. Now let her go.”
Serrano glanced down at his chest then came back up, showing no signs of concern for the red dot still resting there. He tilted his head to the side and frowned. “I am afraid she is tied up at the moment.”
Luke jerked forward, barely holding off the impulse to beat the living shit out of Serrano. “Where?” he demanded.
“No!”
His heart stopped. It was her. Cass. Her voice. She was still alive.
“Don’t do this, Ronan. Don’t!”
She was panicked. Frantic. Crying for help.
Hang on, baby. I’m coming.
“Outta my way, Serrano,” Luke said. “Cassandra goes free. That was our deal.”
“As far as I am concerned, she is welcome to go,” he said. “But I believe Ronan has other plans for her.” Serrano lifted his shoulders in a shrug that sent Luke’s restraint flying so far out the window they’d need an F-16 to fetch it.
Luke lowered his finger from point index along the side of his weapon to the trigger, readying for showtime.
“I’m going to give you one second,” he said. “Get. Out. Of. My way.”
Serrano didn’t flinch.
“Fine,” Luke started to squeeze the trigger. “O—”
“Calder, stop,” Ash said behind him.
The other three men in their team crowded around him. Ash laid a hand on the top of Luke’s weapon. “We’re taking him alive.”
“That was your plan,” he said, eyes on Serrano, “not mine.”
“Hello, Ash Cooper,” Serrano said with a haunting smile. “It is a pleasure to see you again. And your friends.” A slight sneer curved his lips as he stared at their high-powered rifles. “I imagine this is how my daughter felt when you all gunned her down.”
Ash’s words were tense. “I’m sorry about what happened to Lorena, but we did what we had to.”
Serrano’s eyes sharpened. “I am sure. Which is why I must do what I have to.” His hands finally came around to show him holding a grenade, squeezing the trigger against the globe. Luke searched for the pin.
Nonchalantly, Serrano said, “The pin has been removed, of course.”
Translation: all Serrano had to do was let go and BOOM.
“So that’s your play?” Luke asked. “Just throw a grenade and kill us all? Even you?” He sidestepped twice, traveling toward Serrano’s side. He was going to get to Cass before Serrano took him out. No matter what.
The guys caught on and started spreading out, too. If Serrano was serious about blowing them all up, they’d need space to find cover.
One of Serrano’s shoulders lifted. “You took my grandson and daughter. I no longer have anything worth living for.”
Not only had the team taken out Lorena Serrano, but during a raid of Serrano’s estate months earlier, they’d been involved in a firefight. His grandson had been caught in the crossfire. Luke had tried to get to the boy, but in the process, the kid had been killed and Luke had been shot in his Kevlar.
Seemed to be a trend for him lately.
“What about the drugs?” Ash asked. “Thought that was your life.”
“I am tiring of my business and little twerps like Ronan. Once you took Lorena and Javier, I found I do not have much left to care about. Life does not hold the same meaning it once had.”
“Seems pretty generic if you ask me,” Luke said with a few more steps. “Throwing a grenade and that’s it? I took you for a more intricate man. Someone to plot and scheme. I’m disappointed. I’d think killing your daughter would warrant something much more extravagant. And your grandson. Shame. I tried saving Javier, you know. No such luck though. Kid was already dead before I fell on top of him.”
Luke’s callous comment sparked the reaction he’d intended. He needed Serrano just as fucked up in the brain as Luke was. Anything he could do to get Serrano to misstep.
Fury passed over Serrano’s features before he composed himself again. “Sometimes the most effective methods are the simplest.”
There was commotion, then a shout.
“Motherfucker! You fucking bitch!”
Serrano’s gaze moved a fraction of an inch to the sound behind him, but came right back to Luke. His mouth lifted into a satisfied smirk.
Dull thuds. A grunt. Then a wail of pain so fierce it almost split his eardrums.
Blood pounded at Luke’s temples. His muscles locked into place. His vision narrowed.
It was now or never.
He slid a look at Ash, who didn’t even have to nod. They’d been a team long enough to know what the other was thin
king. Ash was giving him the go-ahead. Tyke and Reese adjusted their posture just enough to signal their consent, too.
“Well, as nice as this has been,” Luke said, continuing to move toward Serrano. “The damsel in distress is calling, so…”
Serrano started to lift the hand holding the grenade. “Not until I say—”
Luke shot, hitting Serrano in the opposite shoulder, and took off. He heard two more shots and a thump as if someone hit the ground. He didn’t turn around.
Dashing into the room two doors up, Luke kicked the door closed behind him. He took in the sight of a young male on the floor facedown, unmoving. Ronan stood over Cass, wrestling to get her arm back into restraints.
Uncontainable anger grew inside him. He used it to dive in Ronan’s direction, landing on top of Cass. The force knocked the bed over to its side, causing him and Cass to spill to the floor. Ronan was thrown toward the opposite wall. The bruises on Luke’s abdomen screamed in revolt. He didn’t care. Luke held Cass tightly, covering as much of her with his body as he could. They lay smashed together between the bed and wall. Her one free arm came around his neck, holding tight enough to almost strangle him.
An explosion went off, blowing the door off the hinges.
Smoke and a blast of fire swept into the room, increasing the temperature to what felt like a couple hundred degrees.
He held tighter onto Cass. She whimpered against him, her fear making his protective meter shoot up to max power.
“You’re okay,” he said. “You’re going to be okay. Just hold on.”
There were zaps and sizzles from the hallway and the lights flickered.
Luke looked down at Cass in his arms.
She looked at him with wide, frightened eyes.
“Calder?” Ash’s voice said over the COMs.
Luke released a relieved breath. “Yeah. I’m here. A little sore, but I’m alive. I’ve got Cass.”
“Thank Christ,” Ash said. “We’re all accounted for. But no sign of Serrano, so we’re still on alert.”
“Copy,” he said, refraining from clenching his teeth. Goddamn it. That meant the threat was still very real.
“Fuck,” Ronan said from the other side of the room. He rolled over, slowly getting to his feet.
In Walked Trouble (Under Covers) Page 25