by Franca Storm
“Yeah?”
“Hell, yeah,” she said, grinning.
I sank my hand into her hair and kissed her forehead. “Go get the assholes, darlin’.”
18
~Willa~
SOMETHING WAS WRONG.
As I stepped out onto the porch, intending to use the railing to vault onto the roof, an air of foreboding enveloped me.
I rapidly scanned the courtyard and the immediate area.
Unfortunately, a good deal of it was obscured by the thick foliage surrounding the house. That was usually a good thing, shielding it from the world as a whole, and the difficult terrain posing a deterrent to any potential enemies.
Now, though, it was negatively impacting me.
My ability to see the enemy’s approach was compromised.
Well, shit, it was what it was.
I still had a job to do.
And, as much as I hated the unplanned nature of it, Slade was right. Sometimes you had no other choice but to improvise the crap out of something.
It was time to take action.
I hauled myself onto the porch railing, then grasped the gutter above with one hand to maintain my balance, as I tossed my rifle onto the roof.
Just as I was preparing to follow it up there, a shot rang out. A bullet plunged into the porch railing, just narrowly missing me. The shock of it jolted me and had me losing my grip above. I crashed onto the porch, just managing to break my fall with my hands to minimize the damage.
I executed a roll and used the momentum to flip back to my feet.
My senses screamed at me.
Behind you.
My fists at the ready, I spun, clipping a soldier who’d just come out of nowhere. These guys were like frigging ghosts. His head snapped to the side from my hit, but he managed to maintain his footing. He launched himself at me, coming in hot, his fists flying.
I met him blow for blow, fists, flat palm strikes, knee strikes, and kicks, a whirlwind of intensity. The guy was well-trained, able to predict my movements quickly, just as I was with him. I was thankful for the padding of tactical gear, each connection like a damn cement block against my body. And that was with me deflecting the blows and therefore undermining their full power.
It was a matter of stamina more than strength right now, though. Moving so rapidly using so much power took a toll and even the best, most durable and experienced fighters could only keep up that kind of pace for a few minutes at best.
Fortunately, I managed to break the standoff, sweeping my boot at his right leg, and hooking the back of his knee. His right knee gave way, but he reacted quickly, slapping his palm to the ground to keep his balance. Still, it was all the distraction I needed. As he went down, I was ready, thrusting my knee into his face. He grunted as his head snapped back. I swept my leg at him, finally forcing him to the ground.
I was all ready to deal a finishing blow when a rush of movement behind me caught my attention. I risked a look over my shoulder to see another soldier had come out of hiding.
Before I could take him on, another one burst from the foliage from the east side. Then, one from the west.
I was surrounded on all sides.
They closed in.
Well, it wasn’t the worst situation I’d been in throughout my career. But, yeah, it was up there.
I thrust my boot into the face of the guy I’d been dealing damage to earlier, knocking him out cold. The two on the east and west sides started toward me, but the third guy signaled them and they stopped short.
He broke from his position and circled me slowly, finally coming to a stop in front of me. “Shadow,” he spoke. “The boss wants a word with you.”
So that was why none of them had pulled their weapons so far, aside from that first warning shot. They intended to take me alive.
I glared at each of them in turn. “Sorry, boys, my schedule’s full.”
The one in front of me who seemed to be their commanding officer, told me snidely, “We’re about to ease the load.” He activated the radio fixed to his tactical jacket and barked, “Clean house.”
I watched in horror as a fresh wave of gray flooded the area, surging toward the house.
Thuds, exploding glass, and a cacophony of destruction and mayhem erupted as more than a dozen of them infiltrated the safehouse, heading straight for Slade and Ricky.
The shock and terror taking hold of me cost me my focus. The leader took full advantage of it, thrusting his fist into my face. I grunted as my head snapped to the side, the power behind it making me waver on my feet.
The other two soldiers were upon me in a flash, taking hold of me and forcing me onto my knees into a submissive, incapacitated position.
The leader crouched down in front of me.
I hissed at him as he reached out and traced his gloved finger down my cheek.
He grinned and grabbed my jaw painfully, forcing my eyes to his. “You come nice and easy and we won’t lay another finger on you. You go the other way and things really will not work in your favor, Miss Rose.”
They knew who I was?
It was bad enough that they knew about Shadow. But to also know my true identity? That was another level.
What the hell was going on?
“Who’s your boss?”
“I am.”
He tore off his balaclava and I had to fight to suppress a reaction.
His dirty-blond hair was a hell of a lot shorter than the shoulder-length photos of him I had in my files, the look that his late father had sported for decades. Now it was a buzzcut. Combined with the harsh angles of his facial features, it gave him a severe, dangerous edge. He ran his hand over the rough stubble plaguing his jawline, as he took in my reaction to his big reveal. Those dark eyes of his, almost completely black, drilled into mine in a hell of a creepy way.
“Blake Freeman,” I ground out.
“Yeah, sweetheart. In the fucking flesh.”
“Blood debts never end well. You need to quit while you still have the option.”
He laughed. “You think this is about some personal vendetta?”
“You hired a group of mercenaries to hunt and destroy the man who killed your father and decimated your club. What else would you call it?”
He leaned in closer and breathed at my ear, making me shudder from the closeness of it, “I’m not here for him.”
I couldn’t hide my reaction this time around and as he pulled back, self-satisfaction shone in his eyes that he’d managed to unnerve me and catch me off guard.
“Like I said earlier, we need to talk, sugar.”
“You want a word, have it now.”
“Nah,” he said, smirking. “I want more than a word and I want to give you my full, undivided attention. And, right now, with what’s going on, I’m going to be distracted. That won’t be fair to neither of us, will it?”
“Fair really doesn’t seem to be much of a concern to you,” I said, referencing the guys holding me, and the fact that he’d overrun the safehouse with an army just to neutralize three targets.
“I don’t leave things to chance. Control is power. Then again, you should know that better than anybody. That’s what you’re all about, how you operate and how you thrive. It’s what makes you the best and the best is exactly what I’m in the market for.”
“You want me to work for you?” I asked, incredulous. “You’re delusional if you really believe that could ever be a possibility.”
His eyes darkened. “I can be very persuasive.”
The threat there wasn’t lost on me. And it incensed me. “Go to hell.”
He blew out a breath. “Hard way it is then.”
I braced myself for whatever punishment was about to come my way. To my surprise, it wasn’t physical. Instead, he actually stepped away from me.
But then a malicious expression spread over his face.
He fingered his radio again and commanded, “Initiate Phase Two. “
He snapped his fingers at the guys
holding me and in the next second they were dragging me away from the house, way over to the garage. I fought them at every turn, until I finally managed to wrench my left arm free.
Slamming my elbow back at an angle, I clocked the guy on my left in the nose, a sharp crack told me I’d broken it. He cried out and instinctively grasped the injured area as blood started to flow from his nostrils, compromising his vision and his grip on me. I kicked him back and he stumbled back into the garage.
Then, I spun into the guy to my right, shoving hard against him, until he was forced to shift his hold. It was all I needed to use his weight against him and throw him over my shoulder. He landed hard on his back with a thud.
I started for Freeman, but the look on his face sent a chill through me.
It wasn’t intimidation. I’d never allowed myself to be a victim of that, and I never would.
No, it was the look that conveyed he knew something I didn’t know.
Something was coming. Something awful.
His dozen or so soldiers suddenly came pouring out of the house, running at top speed.
And then it happened.
A thunderous blast tore through the night.
Another.
Then another.
Flames licked the sky, exploding forth in ferocious bursts, over and over.
It was blinding.
Deafening.
It devastated the building, debris hurtling several feet into the forest every which way, glass bursting from window panes, flames raging into being.
I heard myself screaming.
Terror and pain became one.
I bolted forward, prepared to do whatever I had to, to go through whatever level of hell and pain I was dealt, in order to break through the wall of soldiers barring my way.
But I never got the chance.
In my distracted state, Freeman was able to get too close.
He descended on me and wrapped his arm around my neck in a brutal chokehold.
“Why don’t you take a load off, sugar?”
He intensified his grip, and a powerful wave of lightheadedness took me over.
I wavered on my feet.
And then everything faded away.
19
~Willa~
WEAKNESS.
That was the predominant feeling coursing through my entire being as I came to.
My eyes were more than a little reluctant to open.
As I tried to shift my weight, my limbs were unbearably heavy. The same sensation befell my head when I tried to turn it to look either side of me.
I fought through my bleary vision to figure out where the hell I was.
To my surprise, luxury surrounded me.
First off, I was sprawled out in a fancy four-poster bed, Egyptian cotton sheets covering me.
Priceless artwork in intricately carved wooden frames was hung around the room. White marble tile covered the floors. The place had that whole minimalist design going for it. Uncluttered, with choice pieces of oddly shaped furniture, just a sleek metal-topped table and a high-legged chest of drawers with a smooth onyx top.
The place was completely unrecognizable to me and that made it dangerous.
In my urgency, I fought against the weakness plaguing my body to sit up, only to find resistance.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered when I saw that a heavy-duty metal cuff encircled my right wrist. I studied it, determining that it was bound to the frame of the bed.
I was a prisoner.
Memories of Blake Freeman’s attack on my safehouse surfaced, inundating me all too quickly.
Terror gripped me.
Slade and Ricky!
They’d been inside the property when Freeman’s guys had blown it to hell.
Had they made it to the extraction tunnel in time?
Ricky could have, because I’d stationed him in close proximity to it. But Slade? No, the probability was miniscule, because I’d stationed him far over on the west side of the property.
Oh my God. Was he… had he… no, I couldn’t go there. I’d let someone get close to me, so damn close to me, deep down into my heart and soul, for the first time in my life. The idea that he could be… gone… was incomprehensible.
And it wasn’t something I could entertain right now.
I was being held captive for fuck’s sakes. I had to keep my head in the game. It was all I had, given that my body was clearly compromised. I could barely lift a finger at the moment. All I had left were my wits.
I sucked in a breath to get a hold of myself, then I concentrated until my breathing was no longer labored and the panting finally subsided, my heartrate calming.
Next, I forced my thoughts only to the immediate situation.
Simple deduction pointed to Blake Freeman being my captor. No doubt, I’d find out soon enough. There were heavy gray curtains covering the large floor-to-ceiling windows over on the other side of the room adjacent to an open door through which an ensuite bathroom was visible. If I’d been able to access the view through the windows, I’d have something to go on as to a location. The only other source of intel aside from human intelligence, which I didn’t have access to right now either, seeing as though I was confined to the room alone, was technology. I assumed that they would have taken my phone, but that wasn’t the only device that could help me. I also carried a top-of-the-line portable GPS on me during every mission I undertook.
Tossing the covers off myself with my free left hand, I looked down to see that all hope was lost in that department.
The device had been zipped up securely inside the lower right side pocket of my tactical pants, and I was no longer wearing any tactical gear.
A shudder ran through me as I discovered that I’d been stripped out of my clothes. I was now decked out in a pair of black lounge pants and a matching tank top.
A sense of utter violation snaked its way through me, making me sick to my stomach. My long-honed self-preservationist instinct kicked in, transcending that awful feeling, and drowning it with fury. Powerlessness didn’t sit well with me and I wasn’t used to it. Those responsible would pay dearly.
I raged against the cuff confining me, the feeling just escalating when each violent jerk against the cuff failed to do a thing to weaken the hold it had on me.
All the emotion, stress and pain, and chaos from the last few weeks of this mission got the best of me for a moment, exploding out of me in a roar that tore through the room.
I could feel the strain my reaction was putting on my weakened body and that just served to incense me even more. “Argh!” I bellowed. “Motherfucker!”
The door flew open, startling me, and cutting through my shouts.
Blake Freeman strode on in.
That cool and collected demeanor fell to the wayside as he took me in. He couldn’t believe my reaction.
Neither could I.
I was always in control. Of myself. Of any situation I found myself in.
But, right now, I could barely control my emotions, let alone anything else. What the hell was happening to me?
“Chill, sugar. You’re not in danger. Nobody’s gonna hurt you.”
My eyes narrowed. “Try,” I seethed. “I’ll tear you apart.”
“Yeah, I figured that would be your reaction at first. That’s why I’ve taken precautions.” He gestured to the cuff. “You’ll be feeling a little lightheaded and weak right now too.”
“You drugged me?”
“It’s just a sedative.”
Just? “I will end you.”
He held up his hands sarcastically in mock-surrender. “Let’s keep it civilized, shall we? I only cuffed a single wrist to give you freedom to move around and I got you cleaned up and out of those bloodied and dirtied clothes so you’d wake up comfortable. If you check, you’ll also see that I had your cheek treated from the hit you took.”
“You mean the hit you delivered?” I said, reaching up and feeling a row of stitches on the afflicted area.
�
�You left me no choice. I had to subdue you, so I could bring you here and make you that offer I alluded to yesterday.”
Yesterday? They’d attacked in the early hours of the morning. So, I’d been out for an entire day? Shit.
“You might as well kill me now, because there’s no way I’ll work with you after what you’ve done. You—”
“Right, I blew up your safehouse and took out your client. That was just business.”
“Business?” I hissed.
He strolled over and rested his hands on the railing at the foot of the bed, as he explained, “Like I told you before, it wasn’t personal. I’m not a shortsighted fool like my old man was. I had no beef with Slade. In fact, he did me a favor by taking out Nik and ripping the Strikers apart. It was an ineffective, declining organization led by a deranged has-been that was verging on bankruptcy and ruin. Nik kept me down beneath his boot. With him and his clueless followers gone, it freed me. I was able to come out of the shadows and finally enact my plan to build a well-functioning, profitable syndicate that focused on two things: money and power. The only currencies that matter in life. Slade going after Nolan was unprecedented but very good for me, because Nolan then came to me, thinking that I had a hate on for the good ol’ Prez for what he did to the Strikers. I used that misconception to my advantage. He put me in touch with a band of guns-for-hire, all highly trained, efficient, and professional guys, and I agreed to deal with his Slade problem.”
“How did you find him?” I’d already determined it had to have been through Ricky, but I needed to know for sure, to figure out exactly how he’d done it. I needed to know exactly what I was dealing with here in Blake Freeman. You couldn’t hope to defeat an enemy without understanding how they operated.
Clearly proud of his performance and achievements thus far, he was only too happy to elaborate, telling me, “I’d been watching Rick for a while. Nik was way too arrogant and clueless to realize that his own VP was undermining a bunch of his deals and working hard to minimize the damage and brutality Nik had been carrying out in his old, demented age. I tagged him ages ago and bugged his phone too. I know all about you and him, all about The Jackals. Knowing somebody like you was out there, somebody who’d had the means to take down that cartel intrigued me, so I started looking into you. It took time, because you’re good at covering your tracks. But I got there. I know way more about you than you think.” He leaned forward against the railing, excitement emanating from him. “But, most of all, I know how fucking valuable it will be to have somebody like you on my payroll.”