by LJ Vickery
Metal bar forgotten and hanging, she and Mary dashed back toward their room, Mary in the lead, when Pieto’s feet appeared on the treads of the stairs, quickly followed by his irate face.
Caught.
“What the fuck?” he bellowed. “Stop right there.” He drew a small gun from the rear of his waistband and pointed it directly at Solina as he walked toward her.
Mary put herself between her brother and his target.
“Get out of my way, bitch,” he snarled. He backhanded her across the face, sending her sprawling to the floor behind him.
“You.” He grabbed Solina by the hair, pointing the gun at her temple.
“Aaahh!” Solina screamed. His grip, compounding the pain she already had, caused her to cry out in agony. “Stop! Stop!”
“Shut up. You won’t be feeling pain much longer.”
****
Wiley heard the sound of metal on metal and waited for the bulkhead to open. But the noise stopped and the door remained shut. He looked at Billboard.
“Should we―”
His voice was cut off by a shrill cry.
“Somebody just screamed,” Billboard growled.
“Not somebody,” Wiley hissed. “Solina.” He bent and grabbed hold of the bulkhead handle, yanking the thing toward him. It only opened a crack. “Fucking hell!” he bellowed, wrenching it upward again and again.
Each time he pulled, the door opened another inch, until he saw the problem. A metal bar lay partially across the opening, having been released from one door but not the other.
“I’ve got this.” Billboard reared back and brought his enormous boot into contact with the metal, sliding it out of the way with one blow. The thing clattered to the floor below.
“Let’s move.” Wiley wasted no time vaulting down into the space, landing on his feet before rolling in such a way that anyone aiming a gun at him wouldn’t know which way he headed.
“We’ve got your six,” Del’s voice crackled over the comm. “Taking care of tangos topside while you secure the package.”
Wiley felt Billboard follow him into the hole. The two came upright on either side of a doorway leading to the outer room from where the scream had emanated.
We have this.
“On three,” Wiley murmured, holding his Sig Sauer P320 at the ready.
Billboard nodded.
“One…two…three.”
He and Billboard spun in perfect synchronization, one aiming high and one low. They were met by a sight that chilled his blood.
Pietro Anestis, the soon-to-be dead man, held a battered and terrified Solina up against his small, slimy body, his legs splayed aggressively, a pistol aimed directly at her head.
“Well, isn’t this charming,” the evil bastard said. “Not really here to fix the furnace, I see. That’s too bad. Because you’ve just put your signature on my lovely captive’s death warrant.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Wiley couldn’t breathe. For the first time in his long career of taking out terrorists and insurgents, he stood frozen. What if he took the shot and missed? What if the asshole pulled the trigger while Wiley’s bullet traveled toward his brain? This wasn’t an anonymous save, where Wiley never questioned his skills. This was Beauty’s life. He didn’t know what to do.
“George?” In his fossilized state, he used Billboard’s real name.
“We’re cool,” his teammate returned. “Whatever you say.”
“You think so, you big freak?” Pietro derided. “The only thing your dumb-ass buddy should say is, ‘Put your gun down,’ or the next thing we see is this lady’s brains.”
The look in Solina’s swollen eyes nearly killed Wiley. They told a story he didn’t want to hear. She didn’t want him to put his gun down. She was prepared to die.
“Don’t listen to him,” she confirmed. “He’ll kill us all if you give up your guns. This way, he can only get me. Save yourselves and Mary, Wiley. Please.”
He couldn’t let her go. Life without her would turn his heart to dust. He raised both hands and slowly bent, lowering his gun toward the floor. “I love you, Beauty,” he told her. “If you go, I go.”
She gasped. “No, Wiley. Please don’t. Oh, my god. Why is this happening now? I can’t believe you’re declaring your love when we’re about to…” She took a deep breath. “I love you, too, Wiley. I should have told you sooner.”
Pietro sneered at the touching scene. “And I’m all fucking tears, you―”
From her position on the floor behind him, Mary slowly sat up, reared back, and with an uppercut that rivaled any Wiley had ever seen, nailed her brother right between his legs. A direct hit to his balls.
The man grabbed for his crotch and let go of Beauty. She did that wonderful downward spiral to the floor before scrambling away.
Wiley’s trigger finger came back to life. He shot the gun right out of the asshole’s hands, while Billboard blew out the guy’s knee. Pietro went down, yowling like a fisher cat, not knowing what to clutch first.
“Tango neutralized,” Wiley barked into his comm, his body flooding with adrenaline.
“Copy that,” Del came back. “Waiting for a few more rats to come out of the woodwork, but we’re close to clean here.”
Wiley wasn’t worried. Del and the guys would smoke out the rest.
Right now, he wanted to beat the bastard who’d terrorized his woman, but his need to hold Solina came first.
“You got him?” he rasped at Billboard, his feet already moving toward the female who’d just professed her love to him.
“Yeah. Go take care of your woman.”
Caveman talk, but it was exactly how Wiley felt at the moment.
When shots sounded from above, both he and Billboard froze.
“Status?” Wiley barked into his mic.
A laugh came back. “Just had to remind one of the assholes not to go anywhere,” Del quipped. “All under control topside.”
With the threat gone, Wiley strode forward and knelt at Beauty’s side. His arms started to close around her when he wrenched back. “Are you hurt anywhere I can’t hug?”
“No, Wiley. The worst is my face.”
Tears began falling while she reached for him, and he didn’t hesitate. He scooped her up into his arms and, sitting, drew her onto his lap, kissing her head…the only place that didn’t look bruised.
“Ouch,” she sniffed.
“What?” He jerked back, regarding the battered mess of her face.
“He whipped me around by my hair,” she said. “My whole scalp feels like it’s on fire.”
Wiley growled. “And I’m going to make him hurt for that, and for every one of the bruises and cuts on your face.”
“Okay,” she agreed, which surprised the hell out of him. “But not yet. I don’t want you to let me go for a few minutes, okay?”
“Not a problem. That guy over there…” She slowly turned her head to look, “is George Seingold―better known as Billboard―and he’s got the situation under control.”
Billboard gave a nod. “Nice to finally meet you, Solina,” he said politely, trussing the prick up with zip ties at the same time.
“Nice to meet you, too, George…uh, Billboard.” Solina laid her head on Wiley’s shoulder.
“Either one is fine, Solina…or should I say Beauty?”
Wiley growled.
“Oops. Maybe I shouldn’t.” He chuckled and tore strips off his t-shirt to staunch the perp’s bleeding.
Damn straight, Wiley thought. He’d coined Beauty, and it was all his.
His gaze traveled to the one who’d saved the day. “Mary, is it?” Wiley called over to the wide-eyed woman, who sat shaking several feet from her scum-sucking brother.
She pulled a paper and pen from her pocket. Yes, she acknowledged, her teeth chattering. And you’re Wiley? She turned the paper to him.
“That’s right. Did Solina tell you about me?” Wiley’s ego swelled…
She didn’t actually tell
me your name. I heard it just now.
…then deflated just as fast.
“You didn’t?” he questioned Solina.
She immediately defended herself. “Not by name, no. I knew if I did that, I’d start crying. But I did tell her you’d come to the rescue.”
“And I did,” Wiley confirmed. “Just so we’re clear, Beauty. I would have never stopped looking for you. Never.”
Billboard, through with tying up Pietro, went into the room adjacent and came back with a blanket, which he draped around the shivering Mary. He knelt by her side and gazed into her face. “But it looks to me like you didn’t actually need us,” he smirked. “That’s quite an uppercut you have there, Mary.”
She lost her haunted look and the corners of her mouth turned up as she scribbled. I’ve waited a long time to get in a good punch at my brother, and I wasn’t about to waste it. The older woman withdrew her hand from the cocoon of blankets, holding it high for everyone to see. But I must give most of the credit to Solina’s brass knuckles. She smiled.
Wiley flinched. Brass knuckles to the jewels. His balls drew up in a sympathetic, autonomic response.
By the pained look on Billboard’s face, he felt it, too. “Jeez, Mary. Remind me to never piss you off.”
Beauty leaned around Wiley to look at Mary. “Yeah. Good job, Mary. Not that I’m unhappy about your location…” She smirked as much as her face allowed, “but weren’t you supposed to punch anyone who stopped us in the head?”
Mary snickered. That was our plan, but then he threw me to the floor. She shrugged. It’s his own fault he got it in the crotch rather than the face.
Pietro, snot running from his nose, had turned to watch her write. He railed from his trussed-up position. “And I’m going to beat the crap out of you for it,” he spat. “Just wait until I’m free. You’re going to pay.” He turned his ugly face to Solina. “And don’t think I won’t come after you, too.”
Solina shrunk back, and Wiley tensed.
“Will you excuse me for a moment?” he asked Beauty solicitously.
She nodded.
Wiley gently raised them both up, took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. “I’ll only be a minute.” He dropped a kiss on the end of her nose, the only place on her face that still looked normal.
He spun around and aimed a vicious kick at the belly of the man on the floor. It connected with a solid whump, shutting the man’s foul mouth as he curled into a fetal position and groaned.
“Were you saying something to the ladies, dirtbag?” Wiley hissed, glowering down at the sniveling piece of shit. “You want to try again?”
“Fuck you. I’m going to kill you all,” Pietro wheezed.
“Wrong answer.” Wiley kicked the man again before lifting him up by his hair.
Pietro screamed, and Wiley popped him in the jaw. “You want to play nice? Or are you going for a broken nose? Because that’s what’s next.”
Oh, please, please let him continue to be an asshole, Wiley prayed. His anger was in no way spent. His need to avenge every cut and contusion on Beauty festered in his gut.
“I’m… I’m…going to leave them both alone,” the coward sobbed, much to Wiley’s disappointment. He dropped the scum to the floor.
“Yeah? Well, you won’t have a choice.” Wiley told him. “You’ll be rotting in prison for a long time.”
“What? It’s my word against theirs,” Pietro whined. “So I punched them a little. I won’t be put away for that.”
Wiley wiped his hands on his shirt. Fucking douche just wouldn’t give up. But he was done touching the bully, although a little verbal intimidation would feel pretty damned good.
“Maybe not, but once the DEA gets a load of you and your operation,” Wiley taunted, “you’ll be in a federal penitentiary for the rest of your life.”
“Wha…?” Pietro’s mouth fell open.
“Oh. Did I forget to mention that we know all about the speedball? Your man was intercepted in Boston and is spewing like a shaken soda.”
Wiley loved how the arrogance drained from the man.
“Yeah. That’s right. So, with grounds for a warrant to search your office, there’ll be no get-out-of-jail-free card for you, wankhead,” Billboard chimed in.
“Which means you can have your house and your life back, Mary.” Solina brightened and clapped her hands.
And a place to invite friends, Mary smiled, encouraged by Solina’s enthusiasm. My solitary days are over. I’m going to join every club I can. Maybe even find myself a boyfriend. She winked at Billboard, who laughed at her cheekiness.
“I do believe you will, ma’am,” he said smartly. “And he’ll have his hands full. But one word of advice? Leave the brass knuckles at home.”
“Or not,” Wiley added with a mock scowl. “They might be useful until you find someone you can trust.”
Don’t worry, Mary wrote. I know what not to look for. She shot daggers from her eyes toward her brother. I’ve had quite the education over the past year.
Wiley felt bad for Mary, but was heartened she hadn’t lost her spunk.
“So… Shall we wrap things up down here?” Wiley walked back to Solina, beginning to sweat, his guts choosing that moment to revolt. “First, I, um, need to use the nearest bathroom, please.”
Solina, seeing the signs on his face, quickly pointed to the facilities in their room.
“Thanks.” He hustled away, calling over his shoulder. “If you ladies need to retrieve anything, do it now before we head upstairs.”
“Yeah. Before he’s through in the bathroom, too, if you catch my drift…or his, if you wait too long.” Billboard let loose a large guffaw.
“Can it, Billboard,” Wiley growled back. “How about it, ladies?”
“Mary says no,” Solina called as he disappeared. “She’s had enough of the basement.”
Wiley agreed. He had enough of this fucking place, too, wanting nothing more than to take Beauty home and care for her injuries. As much as he craved introducing her to sex―and the decks were cleared now that she’d confessed her love―his dick would wait. She needed a lot of TLC, and that was the only thing he’d allow on his holiday agenda.
It took several minutes before he finished using the facilities, but he felt one hundred percent more human when he did.
He rejoined the party in the outer room.
Billboard dragged Pietro to his feet, heading up the stairs first. Because of the bullet in the drug dealer’s knee, his buddy had to practically carry the slimeball.
“Remind me to shower when this is over,” the big man grimaced.
Wiley snickered. Pietro’s greasy hair and complexion didn’t exactly make him a touchy-feely candidate.
“Before you do, you should ask him what he uses for shampoo. Crud and Molders?”
“How about eau de colon?” Billboard sent back.
“Used toilet water for your everyday hygiene,” Wiley laughed.
Beauty groaned. “Jeez. How old are you guys?” she asked. “Isn’t this type of thing supposed to stop with puberty?”
“You ain’t heard nothin’ yet, ma’am,” Billboard snickered. “Prez is the master.”
“No, he’s not,” Wiley pouted. “I am.”
“Maybe so, but he delivers it with a straight face, which makes it fucking hilarious.” Billboard paused. “Uh, excuse my language, ladies.”
Mary snorted in response. After what we’ve been through, I’m pretty sure one or two f-bombs aren’t going to kill us. Now, move that ass, son. I need some fresh air.
She got the chuckle she was after, and a much more jolly crew pushed their way to freedom.
They were met by Del’s cranky voice a few rooms away. “…and I’m freezing my tits off here. After lying around in the snow all day, do you think we can get some heat?”
“Uh, that was us in the snow. You had the van, remember?” Wiley quipped. “And while you were all toasty, we tranqued the techs. In terms of the heat… I have
no freaking clue when it comes to furnaces.”
“Anybody?” Del growled. “We still have another hour before the Feds show up.”
All the guys shook their heads, but Beauty, tucked under Wiley’s arm, tentatively raised her hand.
Wiley made the introductions. “Uh… Guys, this is Solina. Solina, the guys. The grumpy mug is Del, and that’s Prez, Sarge, and Perk.” He pointed to the team members in turn before introducing the other female to his crew. “And this is Mary, Pietro’s sister.”
“Nice to meet you,” Solina said, and Mary gave a little wave.
“Nice to meet you both, as well.” Del’s visage turned thunderous as he got a look at Solina’s face. “Did that prick do this to you?”
“He did, boss.” Wiley nodded. “But it’s all taken care of.”
Del spared one glance at the bleeding perp on the floor and grunted his approval. “Okay then.” His features smoothed out before turning back to Solina. “Did you want to say something?” He twitched his eyebrow toward her still upraised palm.
“Yeah. I, um… I’m sort of responsible for the lack of heat,” she admitted sheepishly.
“You are?” Wiley looked at her in confusion.
“Yup,” she sighed. “I thought if I could disable it, we’d get some repair guys to the basement, which might give us an avenue of escape.”
“Well, that was good thinking, Solina,” Del commended. “But what did you do to it, and can we get it back on?”
“I pulled the fuse out of the thermal safety switch.” She ducked her head, looking embarrassed, but it was tough to tell her true emotional state with all the discoloration on her face. “And I can fix it if you can find me the right fuse. I, uh, threw the other one into the sump pit.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Del shook his head in amazement. “Smarter than all of us. Perk?” he snapped. “Get a description of what she needs and go find it on that HVAC truck.”
“Yes, sir.” Perk turned toward Solina, who described the part. A few seconds later, he took off at a jog.
“Is there anything else we should know about you, Solina, before the cops and Feds descend?”
“There is.” She stood up straighter and looked Del directly in the eye. “I think you all should be the first to know. I’m in love with Wiley, and he loves me back.”