by J. Saman
“Where is she?” I ask, my stomach twisting in a sick knot.
“Cash said there is no video of them leaving here, dude,” Maddox says, his voice suddenly whisper-quiet.
Our eyes lock. “They’re still here? How?”
“Not freaking possible,” Maddox rejects. “I checked everywhere.”
“Do you have video on the freight elevator?” Gavin asks, glancing at Maddox first and then me with a tilt of his head.
My eyes widen.
Gavin nods.
And then the three of us bolt across the apartment. Maddox took the stairs up. But the freight elevator is all the way in the back down its own hallway. Goddammit. How could I have been so freaking stupid to overlook the freight elevator?
“There is more blood,” Gavin yells as we approach the hallway. “He definitely came back here.”
“Shit,” I bellow. “We’re too late.” I turn and run back to the main elevator. “You two take the freight. Maybe he didn’t get too far ahead of us. Maddox, call Cash. Have him get any video feed that’s even remotely close to there.”
I hit my regular elevator, slamming my fist into the call button. I don’t wait to find out how Gavin and Maddox do. They’re both equally capable. The doors immediately open for me and I rush in, punching the button for the lobby. But it’s slow. So goddamn slow and I need to move fast. I’m bouncing off the walls in here like a caged lion waiting to strike.
The side of my fist meets the fabric wall just as the doors open. My feet carry me forward without thought behind it. My eyes scanning everywhere, left and right and straight ahead. I don’t see Fiona or Niklas. They’re not here. My phone pings a text and I pull out of my back pocket to see four words.
Event Wing, West Side
Shit. That’s clear on the other side of the damn casino. Sucking in a deep breath, I take off again. Dodging patrons and bumping into drunks. I can’t move fast enough.
I’m going to lose.
I’m not going to reach her in time and if he makes it out that exit, well, he has all of Vegas and beyond at his disposal. He’ll be a ghost. And she’ll be gone.
The corridor for the event wing is long and wide and has a million doors that leads to a million conference and ballrooms. He could be hiding out with her in one of these rooms. It’s a rare day we don’t have at least one function or conference going on, but it appears today is one of those days. It’s completely devoid of people, which is eerie in itself, considering I’m in one of the most popular hotels on the Las Vegas strip.
My lungs burn and sweat drips down the side of my face and neck.
I’m about to call Maddox, or even Cash, when I hear it. The slamming of a door. It could be any door, but instinctively, I know it’s an outside door. They just sound different when they close. Maybe it’s the fact they’re glass-paned instead of solid wood. Or maybe it’s the fact I know he’s trying to escape without drawing a lot of attention. I don’t know. But that’s where I go.
The remnants of the Las Vegas sun catch my eye through the line of glass doors leading outside. There isn’t much out this way, just a circle drive for cars and limos to pull up, and a long driveway that is lined thickly with shrubs before it hits a random side street.
The asshole is good. I’ll give him that much.
I take a half-second to pull some much-needed air into my lungs, mentally thanking Sunshine for making me run so hard these past few weeks, and then race ahead. Tugging the door open, I squint against the intrusive sun, covering my brow with my hand, and then I spot them. At least, I think it’s them. A tall man in a black jacket and jeans is speed-walking away, a smaller figure I cannot make out all that well at this angle being dragged along beside him.
She’s alive. She’s on her feet.
Hopefully that means her injuries aren’t so bad.
I fly forward. “Niklas!” I bellow, and just as he turns around, I’m there, launching myself at him. He lets go of Fiona, who begins to drop back toward the ground. I don’t mean for her to fall and as we’re all going down, I reach out for her, attempting to draw her body onto mine so I can break her fall. But it’s impossible and the three of us hit the ground hard.
Niklas grunts but recovers faster than I do. I’m more concerned about Fiona, who is an absolute mess. Niklas jumps on me, but he’s nearly as bad off as Fiona is, and all I see is red. All I see is what this motherfucker did to her. I can’t let that stand. There are few things lower than hurting a woman, and now I’m starting to understand Gavin wanting Niklas to end up in ass-raping, hard-knocks prison.
Hell might be a day at the spa compared to that.
We’ll have to see which place he reaches first.
Niklas lands a punch square to my jaw, but it hardly registers, the pain a quick zap of electricity. I roll us, using the full force of my weight and strength to get us there. Niklas is a big guy. A strong guy. Even as banged up as he is, he’s still putting up one hell of a fight. He punches up, landing a blow straight across my jaw, the metallic taste of blood pooling in my mouth. I hit him back, savoring the crack of his jaw against my closed fist. We trade punches back and forth, scraping at each other, both desperate for the upper hand.
His knee fires from behind, hitting me square in the back. Inadvertently, I lurch forward, and he uses my momentum to roll me, plastering my back to the asphalt. Before I can catch my breath, his elbow slams into my throat. I choke, gasping for air, giving him a moment’s reprieve from my assault. Hoisting himself up and onto his feet, he runs toward the street, dodging my outstretched hand as I try to trip him up. A feral growl glides past my lips and I’m on my feet. But Fiona...
“Baby?” Crouching down beside her, I gently run my fingers along her bruised cheek. Her left eye is swollen. Her lips split and bleeding. Her face covered in purple welts and long gashes. Her breaths are labored, pained. I’ve never tasted murderous intent before. I’ve felt it directed at me. I’ve held it in my hands as it bled to death in the desert heat.
But never once, in all the times I pulled the trigger and took a life, did I feel this…wrath. This explosion of hatred. My muscles twitch, aching to perform the deed my head and heart are commanding. But Fiona. I can’t leave her like this.
“How bad does it hurt?”
Fiona blinks, like she’s coming back from somewhere else, and then her pale eyes meet mine. They lock, holding onto me, and I realize just how much I love her. Because she smiles, trying for brave when everything she’s feeling is pain and fear.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement. Maddox is here. Finally.
Lowering himself to one knee, his eyes meet mine. They say, move, asshole. They say, get the prick and make him pay. “I’ve got her,” Maddox promises. “Go. And give him a good one for me.” He lifts a limp and injured Fiona up and off the ground, cradling her into his chest like she’s made of glass and could shatter at any moment. She whimpers, saying something I can’t hear in a low, sweet voice.
I stand, watching him walk over to the entry of the building, holding her soundly in his arms. “How is she?” I yell, turning back to the now-empty street, searching left and right for Niklas. He wouldn’t have gone far. Fiona is still here. Fiona is still alive, and his pride, greed and misplaced confidence make him arrogant. Make him stupid.
“I’m okay, Jake.” Sunshine tries to reassure me, but she doesn’t sound okay. She sounds banged-up and beaten-down, but she’s coherent and she’s speaking, and I’ll take what I can get.
A rush of air hits my lungs and I feel like it’s the first breath I’ve taken since I left the security room. It gives me a rush, a surge of adrenaline that forces me forward without the benefit of sight.
“Jake,” Fiona calls urgently after me, begging me with her tone not to go after him.
My head swivels around and I catch her eye as she’s held tenderly in Maddox’s over-sized arms. “I’m so mad at you, Sunshine. You better not die on me, or I swear to God, I’ll chase you into the afterlife.�
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She gives me a half-smirk, her face pale, her skin clammy. My girl is in so much pain. “I love you, too.”
Niklas growls from beyond my sightline, yelling something in German I don’t care to try and figure out. Ha! I knew you wouldn’t go far.
“I’ve got her,” Maddox calls as Fiona argues with him, not wanting to go. Wanting to stay out here with us. I don’t care where he’s taking her. I know Maddox will protect her. That he’ll take her where she needs to go and watch her with his life. That’s just the sort of guy Maddox is. It’s why he’s my brother.
Gavin comes out of nowhere, like the stealth fog of death, a gun in his hand, his body poised. Our eyes meet, and silently, we move along the road, angling our bodies against the tall shrubs. I don’t hear anything. I can see even less. But I know he’s here, more than likely, armed and waiting for just the right moment to spring.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
There are certain moments in your life that are defining. And I don’t mean milestones like graduation or marriage. I’m talking about moments when you have a situation in front of you and a choice to make that will change the course of your life. It should come with a pause. A tingle up your spine. Some warning light that says, hey, this is it. This is your moment, so don’t fuck it up and make the wrong choice.
But it rarely does. It’s why people end up with regrets.
As I stand here, stalking the shrubs lining the road at the back of my hotel, I have no regrets when it comes to Fiona. But I’m also coming to grips with the knowledge she might have been my moment. It wasn’t when I was shot in the desert by that sniper. It wasn’t when my father passed away and I was left with an empire to run at the age of twenty-nine. It was when I pulled over on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere and found a woman sitting in her car with terror in her eyes.
That one rash decision to pull over and help a stranded motorist changed my entire life.
The way she looked up at my hooded face, unable to see me, though I could see her. The way just the sight of her had my breath stopping in my chest. The way my heart inexplicably jumped when she first spoke to me. Fiona has forever changed the fabric of my life. Marked it with indelible ink. Branded it with her sass, smile, and sunshine. My sunshine.
And Niklas Vaughn will never be able to hurt her again.
I don’t care how he goes down, whether it’s through death or prison. But he is going down. Today is the day. This is the moment. And I’m ready for whatever is coming.
Gavin is directly across from me, on the opposite side of the street, hugging the hedge, his gun held up chest high, ready. Mine is, too, and if you’ve ever been shot or know what the fear of a bullet is like, then you know the true nature and impact of the weapon. It’s not something I take lightly. Not something I revel in possessing, and definitely not something I delight in using.
I get the impress Gavin can’t say the same.
The hard line of concentration around his eyes, combined with the confident upturn of his lips, tells me he’s been here before. In a position very similar to this. But really, I think the personal nature of this hunt is what’s driving him with surgeon-like precision and hot-headed glee.
The sound of bushes rustling catches our attention. It’s on my side about ten feet ahead, and without a word or a sound, Gavin crosses the street to stand beside me. Except, instead of being behind me, he’s in front. I can’t decide if this is a position I want him in, but my opinion was not asked for, and I’m certainly not afforded an argument as he rolls his head to me with a glare.
“He’s mine,” he mouths.
I nod, but inside I’m not sure if that’s a promise I’ll be able to keep.
“Where are you, you coward?” Gavin yells, the sound so startling, so unexpected, I practically trip over myself and squeeze the ready trigger in my hand. I have no idea why Gavin is intentionally giving up our position. He does not strike me as the type of guy who does anything without intent. He’s painfully patient. His pursuit of Sunshine proves that. The way he mapped this whole thing out proves that. So what the hell is he trying to do?
“You tried to kill, Fiona. You’re a depraved, sick fuck, and I personally will take tremendous pleasure in hearing all about the ass-rapings you will receive in prison after all your money, power and possessions are stripped.”
No sound. He’s not luring Niklas out of the bushes, which is the only possible reason I can come up with for his intentionally baiting the lion we’re blind to.
Gavin laughs, loud and maniacal, like he’s lost touch with reality.
“Did you love her, Niklas? Did you care when you ruined her? When you beat the life from her eyes? When you strangled the breath from her body?” I pull on his arm, begging him to shut up, but there is no stopping Gavin. He’s a bleeding, heartbroken force of nature. “Did you know about Fiona and her money before you killed Gabriella, or did that come after?”
Goddammit. I don’t know what to do. I don’t like this game of hide and seek. I don’t like being out here, so exposed when Niklas is so very well hidden.
“I guess the call of young, money-filled pussy was too much for you to resist.”
Now my fists clench. And I want to punch Gavin for saying that about Fiona. But…German. I’m hearing muttering in German. Then a shot fires in our direction, whizzing dangerously close to my head. So close I feel the breeze of it as it barrels past me.
Instinctively, I drop to the ground, hitting the pavement and the curb hard, just as Niklas releases another shot. This one skims Gavin’s arm, leaving a nasty flesh wound and a long trail of blood in its wake. Gavin doesn’t even flinch. That’s how lost he is in this right now. Concrete explodes not even three feet from us, splintering and raining tiny clay-colored pellets mixed with green leaves from the bushes on us.
“That was pathetic,” Gavin taunts. “You’re quick on the draw there, Nik. You like that in the sack, too, big guy?”
Jesus Christ. Gavin has got to be kidding me. Because Niklas Vaughn has us exactly where he wants us. We’re sitting ducks out here like this and if we’re not careful, next time he won’t miss. I tug on the back of Gavin’s pants, urging him to get down. He doesn’t. Instead, he rolls his head over his shoulder and winks at me. The bastard actually winks at me. And I have to tip my hat to him, because now in addition to German ranting, I catch movement in the bushes. Crazy, brilliant bastard. Gavin holds a finger up to his lips, urging my already-silent lips to stay so. He refocuses on the bushes, points his gun in the direction of the voice, adjusts it two clicks to the left and fires. One. Two. Three shots. Pop. Pop. Pop.
Niklas catapults out of the bushes, clutching desperately to Fiona’s gun, and I blow out a relieved breath that he didn’t have it drawn before when we were scrapping on the ground. Gavin raises his hand just as Niklas does the same, but this time, I fire first. A warning shot. A graze across his shoulder. Niklas jolts back, his bruised and beleaguered body overreacting. He fires haphazardly, wildly, missing us by a mile. He recovers quickly, aiming at Gavin, who jumps to his side and rolls on the ground.
“I don’t want to kill you, Niklas,” Gavin roars. “So how about you drop the pretty lady gun and we talk?”
Niklas turns to face Gavin head on, staring him down with his bloodshot eyes, one so swollen, it’s nearly shut. He is bleeding from practically everywhere on his face. His gun is still held chest high, but it’s a struggle, his hands shaking with the effort. “No one can have Fiona but me,” is all he says, but he makes a point to catch my eye. A warning. A do-not-try-and-fuck-with-my-possession.
“Is that why you made my bed? To try and send me that message?” I laugh. “That’s funny, man, because not even two hours ago, Fiona was telling me how she’s mine.”
Niklas raises his gun at me and I do the same, a solid twenty-five feet between us.
“I wouldn’t do that just yet, Nik. Jake here is a damn good shot. Can you say the same from this distance with those injuries?”
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br /> Niklas glances in Gavin’s direction, but his gun never lowers.
“While I have your attention, tell me how you killed Gabriella.”
Niklas’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he restores his stoic mask. But it was there. In that half-second, his features were lined with shock. Not at the accusation, but at the fact Gavin knows the truth about what happened to his sister. The aim on his gun falters.
“Did you mean to kill her? Did you enjoy it?”
Niklas stares Gavin down for a long, hard moment, the tension mounting, building to a deadly crescendo, a finality that can only end one way. Niklas aims his gun at me again, and before I can press the trigger, I hear, click. Click? Out of bullets or a misfire? Gavin laughs, squeezing the trigger.
The loud pop of gunfire rings through the air. Niklas’s left leg jerks awkwardly beneath him and he cries out in pain, blood pouring past his fingers as he tries to staunch the wound on his knee.
Gavin’s words are manic now, his tone shrill. “Tell me!” Gavin demands again, his voice like jagged glass. “Tell me about Gabriella and I might let you live to become someone’s bitch in prison.”
Niklas points his gun at Gavin with a shaky hand, grinning painfully like he’s won and we’ve lost. He fires in rapid succession, spraying bullets at both of us. This time, I don’t hesitate. I’ve had enough of this back-and-forth shit. I fire, hitting the hand holding the gun. Niklas howls, capturing his now mangled hand as the gun drops to the ground with a clank. Gavin and I race over in a flash. I kick the gun away, and it skids about ten feet until it hits the opposite curb. Gavin rears back and plants his foot into Niklas’s ribs.
Niklas coughs, sputters, spits blood on the ground. “I didn’t intend to kill her. Just leave her. I wanted Fiona.” His voice is thick with pain and garbled from his injuries. He locks eyes with Gavin, and then smiles, cruel and unapologetic. “But I won’t lie and say I wasn’t happy the bitch was dead.” Gavin fires his gun, the bullet striking Niklas directly in the forehead, between the eyes, and that’s it.