“You’re Trent Tomlin!” the barista exclaimed.
Trent’s gaze snapped back to her. Damn. Without even taking into account Halli’s warnings, he’d used his smile enough that he should’ve known better than to let it slip. He made a face and summoned his best Italian accent to speak in the barista’s native tongue.
“No, but I get that a lot. Too bad the guy’s such a prick.”
The coins bounced on the counter as he swiped up his cup and started for the door. In two strides, the gaze of the blond man met his. After what the barista had said, a flash of recognition darkened the guy’s ice blue eyes. His hand reached for the inside of his jacket.
Trent lunged forward, popping the lid off his cup as he went. Before the man could draw a weapon, Trent threw the steaming espresso in his face.
Rachel leapt back at the man’s pained shout. Hot drops of liquid pelted Trent’s bare skin and shirt, but he ignored them along with the alarmed exclamations of the café customers. He thrust a surprised Rachel toward the door.
“Halli’s outside in the black car. Go!”
He spun back to the guard. An oncoming fist super-charged Trent’s reflexes, and he flung his left arm up to deflect the blow. His wounded arm screamed with the effort required to hold the heavier man back until an adrenaline-boosted swing of his own connected with the man’s jaw. His head snapped to the side. He stumbled backward, flailing for balance. Two tables and a number of chairs gave way at the last moment, and the back of his head hit the wall with a resounding thud.
Trent had no time to see if the man was out cold—Rachel’s frantic exit from the café would not have gone unnoticed by Blondie’s partner. Trent shoved past a startled pedestrian in the doorway to see Halli had opened the back door of the car. Hand outstretched, she emerged from the vehicle, beaming at Rachel limping toward her.
Glass shattered behind him. Needlepoint shards rained onto the sidewalk. Screams erupted all around. Trent ducked at the same time Rachel’s body jerked. Halli cried out as her sister crumpled to the ground. On hands and knees, Trent fumbled for the gun at his waist. Halli fell to her knees beside her sister.
For one heart-stopping, unbearable moment, he thought she’d been shot. Until her tear-filled eyes lifted to his amidst the chaos. He waved her back, fingers clenched on the grip of the gun. “Get in the car!”
No more than he started to spin around to take out the man in the café, the half rolled down window of the open back door exploded. Trent ducked again in the midst of more screams. He caught sight of the second man from the Fiat sprinting toward them, gun extended. When Trent raised his gun, the man immediately dove behind a vehicle three cars away.
He checked Halli and saw her working with her sister to get them both into the back seat. Trent fired a shot into the back end of the car the man hid behind and cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure Blondie in the café didn’t pose a double threat. His blood froze at the sight of café customers helping the guy to his feet.
“Halli—we gotta go!”
“Then let’s go!”
He surged to his feet, firing two more cover shots down the street. Quick spin, aim, fire, and the window above the door of the café exploded. A running leap launched him feet first across the hood of the car. The rivets on his back left jeans pocket screeched across the metal until he landed on his feet on the other side.
Halli slammed the rear passenger door as he slid behind the wheel. He’d left the keys in the ignition, so a twist of his wrist brought the engine to life. The left side mirror revealed a miracle break in traffic and the running approach of the sidewalk gunman with the scratched face.
The image shattered in a flurry of glass.
“Hang on and stay down!”
Trent jammed the car in gear, wrenched the wheel and stomped on the gas. Noise bombarded him from all sides. Blaring horns. Squealing tires. Rachel’s harsh breathing laced with sobs. Halli’s low voice attempting to reassure her sister. His own pulse pounding in his ears.
He drove. Down the block, hard right, quick left, and keep on going. The review mirror offered some relief. Thank God no one followed. He wasn’t up to a second car chase in as many days. Especially since he was completely out of bullets.
“What are we going to do?”
Halli’s shrill question rang out from the back. Trent didn’t answer. He had no clue.
“Trent, she’s bleeding bad.” She sounded on the verge of panic. “We have to get her to a hospital.”
He reached up until Rachel’s pale face filled the review mirror. Christ. He’d known something like this was possible, but hadn’t prepared mentally. He dragged the windbreaker from his waist and tossed it over the seat.
“Do what you can to stop the bleeding. Where was she hit?”
“There’s too much blood. I can’t tell.”
“My leg,” Rachel gasped. “But Ben—” An anguished cry ripped from her throat. “Oh, God, Ben.”
Halli’s trembling hands froze, her heart lodged in her throat. “What about Ben?”
“They said they’d kill him if I didn’t do exactly what they said.” Rachel buried her face in her hands, her entire body wracked by fresh sobs.
A conflicting surge of relief that he was still okay and a stab of alarm that he might not be for long ripped through Halli. She thrust one jacket sleeve under Rachel’s leg and knotted it with the other just above the torn fabric of her pants. Rachel bit off a scream with a sucked in breath.
“Sorry.” Still, Halli yanked on the knot. It couldn’t be helped. It had to be tight, to act like a tourniquet and stem the flow of blood.
“We need to call Ben’s phone now,” Halli told Trent as she folded the bulky part of the jacket over the welling wound. “Before they do something to him.”
“He told me to go.” Rachel said.
She collapsed against the back seat with a cry when Halli pressed hard on her leg. At first Halli thought she’d passed out, but she took shallow breaths, speaking in between.
“Said not to worry about him…to run with you. We almost escaped…this morning. But I twisted my ankle…” Fresh tears streamed down her face.
“It’s okay,” Halli reassured her. “We’ve got a plan.”
A plan that wasn’t going the way it was supposed to. Still pressing down with her left hand, Halli used her other hand to brush the tangled strands of blond hair from Rachel’s face. Tears stung her own eyes as she gazed at her sister’s pale, pain-pinched features.
“We’re going to get him back,” she vowed.
Rachel simply closed her eyes and let her head rest against the seat.
“How’s her leg?” Trent asked.
Halli lifted the compress for a quick look before meeting his somber gaze in the review mirror. “The jacket helped. The bleeding’s slowed a lot.”
“Good. I’ll pull over to make the call as soon as we’re out of the city. We’ll be no help to your brother if those guys catch up with us. I’m out of ammo.”
Halli nodded. She couldn’t argue his reasoning no matter how desperate she was to secure Ben’s safety or get help for Rachel.
“A hospital is out of the question right now anyway,” he continued. “That’s the first place they’d look.”
Rachel’s lashes fluttered, then opened to stare at the back of Trent’s head. “Is that really Trent Tomlin?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
“How’d you manage that one?”
“He showed up after you guys drove off without me.”
Halli’s basic explanation sat in an unexpected silence. She cringed, wishing she’d chosen better words. Rachel shifted in the seat. She groaned in pain as she turned anguished eyes to Halli. “I am so sorry. This is all our fault. We thought you were right behind us. We never meant to—”
“It’s okay. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I don’t blame you guys.”
“First I left you, and now Ben,” she cried. “I’m an awful sister.”
&n
bsp; “Don’t you dare say that. You were always there for me when Mom and Dad weren’t. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I’m the one who kept taping. I’m the one who filmed something she shouldn’t have. I’m the one they’re after.”
“That’s what they want? Your video? What the hell did you film?”
“Someone was shot and killed right as Ben drove off.”
“Oh my God. You saw it happen?” Rachel asked in a horror.
“No, but the killers saw me with the camera across the water.”
“But if you didn’t see it, how do you know?”
“I saw the video,” Trent stated as he pulled over on a quiet, tree lined road. “It’s on there, and as you already know, they’ll do anything to get their hands on it.”
Halli shivered at the certainty in his voice. Not that she hadn’t seen proof enough of Alrigo Lapaglia’s determination, but the grim reminder made her wonder if the trade for Ben could even be accomplished successfully.
Phone in hand, Trent faced Halli and Rachel from the front seat. He locked his gaze with Halli’s. “Ready?”
She nodded.
He read a trust in her eyes that hadn’t been so forthcoming yesterday. Funny how he’d wanted her faith so bad, and now that he had it, it scared the shit out of him. She was counting on him to get the job done and he was terrified he’d let her down like everyone else in his life.
His heart pounded after he’d dialed the number and counted the rings. It was a bit of a surprise when the voicemail clicked on. Damn it. Now what? The beep sounded in his ear and he said the first thing that came to his mind. “Ben Sanders better stay alive or I’ll send the video to the police and every major television network in the country.”
Halli’s eyes widened when he flipped the phone shut. “What was that?”
“Voicemail. I improvised.”
“What if they don’t check it?”
“They will.”
Rachel’s whispered words drew his attention. She lay slouched against the back, her head now on Halli’s shoulder. She didn’t look good. Hell, he’d been improvising so far, but this shit had seriously gotten out of control. Especially since Rachel’s injury wasn’t a surface wound that could be patched up with butterfly bandages.
Halli caught his eye and jerked her head toward her door. Trent got out of the car, automatically doing a visual sweep to make sure they were still safe. When she joined him outside and shut her door, he left his open, ignoring her pointed frown. He got that she didn’t want to talk in front of her sister, but he didn’t want to be caught unprepared.
“What do we do now?” she asked quietly.
He shrugged, answering her while attempting to unseat the guilt riding his shoulders that he didn’t know exactly how to fix this new complication. Then he offered the best answer he had. “We wait. If they don’t call us back, I’ll try the number again in a little while.”
“I meant about Rachel. I’m scared she’s lost a lot of blood.”
She sounded more than scared and he knew exactly how she felt. He ran a hand through his hair; somewhere along the way he’d lost his baseball cap. Halli’s blue eyes beseeched him, tightening a vice inside his chest. If her sister died, she’d blame him. He would blame him. The thought left him with no decision at all.
He reached to open her door. “Get in the car. I’m taking you back to the consulate.”
“What? No. What about Ben?” She stood her ground.
“We have to trust the video is enough to keep him alive.”
“But—”
He gripped her shoulders. “Your sister needs medical help. You know that. Once we’re close to the consulate, I’ll get out and continue with the original plan. You take Rachel to the consulate and get her the help she needs. You’ll both be protected and I’ll get Ben.”
Rachel stirred in the back seat. Halli glanced inside, before facing him with obvious indecision.
“I have to go this alone, Halli, but I also have to know you’re safe. If I’m worried about you it’s going to get us all killed. The consulate is our only option right now.”
“No.”
The feeble denial came from Rachel. She reached for the door handle, only to collapse onto the seat. Trent ducked inside, over the driver’s side as Halli yanked open the back door. She helped her sister back into a sitting position.
“You need to rest. Don’t move,” Halli cautioned.
Rachel’s labored breathing doubled Trent’s alarm. After a moment, though, she caught her breath. “We can’t go back to the consulate.”
“We have no other choice,” Trent said.
Rachel shook her head. “Ben.”
“Leave him out of it. Make up a story about the café shooting, and I’ll take care of your brother.”
“Listen to me,” Rachel insisted weakly. She grasped Halli’s hand and looked from her sister to Trent. “There’s someone inside. We can’t go there.”
Trent’s fingers tightened on the seat. Halli’s gaze met his as she asked, “What do you mean by inside?”
“One of the consulate guards. He talked to Tony. They knew each other.”
“Who’s Tony?”
“The blond asshole in the coffee shop. If we go back to the consulate, they’ll know, and Ben is dead for sure.”
As if the words sapped the last of her strength, Rachel sagged back against the seat. Her lashes fluttered, her eyes rolled back, and air whooshed from between her dry, parted lips. The hand that’d been holding Halli’s went limp with the rest of her body.
“Rachel? Rachel!”
Trent reached across the seat to feel for her pulse, heart in his throat. A moment later, he gave Halli a tense nod and sat back. “I think she passed out. Surprising she didn’t do it sooner.”
Halli checked the wound on Rachel’s leg and Trent was relieved to see the makeshift tourniquet was working. Tears swam in Halli’s eyes when she lifted her gaze again. “Now what?” When he didn’t answer right away, she dipped her chin to catch his eye. “Trent?”
“I don’t know.” It killed him to admit it out loud, but there it was. Rachel had shot his solution all to hell, and he didn’t know which way to turn next. He couldn’t look Halli in the face and turned away with the pretense of another check of their surroundings.
“We’ve got to figure something out,” Halli hounded. “There has to be somewhere we can get help.”
If Lapaglia had someone in as deep as the consulate, there was no way they could risk a hospital. The cops would show up in a heartbeat, especially if hospital officials had been alerted to watch for a gunshot victim. But they wouldn’t know which side those cops were on until it was too late.
For lack of anything better to do, he started the car and began driving. Halli kept talking.
“What about a smaller clinic, they have facilities like that here, don’t they, like in the US? Or…I know! What about a veterinarian?” She sat forward, hugging his seat back so that her chin hovered just above his right shoulder. “Remember that movie—Bird on a Wire? Mel Gibson was treated by a veterinarian when he was shot in the butt.”
“Too bad I don’t conveniently have a veterinarian ex-lover here in Italy.”
“It’s an idea,” she retorted with distinct annoyance when he flicked his gaze to hers in the review mirror. “Sometimes it helps to talk things out with someone. Like in High Lonesome, when Shain and the sheriff figured out a way to save Emma.”
“You’re not seriously comparing this to one of my movies, are you?” If she’d just shut up, he could—
“Why not? Shain does stuff like this all the time. What would he do?”
“I don’t know!” he shouted.
She sat back abruptly and he braked. Took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. Just give me a minute to think, will you? This is a hell of a lot different than reading a script written by someone else.”
A memory struck like a bolt of lightning. Simone, Lorenzo’s girlfriend who was
a nurse, had offered to read lines with him after dinner one night. And he recalled Lorenzo had told him yesterday she was working the night shift all week so she’d be at her city house. After mentally placing the next couple street signs on a map in his head, Trent recognized they weren’t that far away.
He didn’t say anything to Halli lest she restart her inquisition, and she actually kept quiet as he drove. A glance in the mirror wasn’t enough time to tell if she was pissed or worried about her sister. Probably both, but since they were almost there, he refocused on the road and once they arrived at Simone’s small house, he simply said, “Wait here.” No sense getting her hopes up if Simone wasn’t home.
Urgency, hope and dread all took their turns tying his stomach in a knot as he knocked on the door. A full minute went by and he knocked again. He’d begun to think their luck had permanently changed for the worse when the door swung open.
Simone stood before him dressed, ironically, in her nurse’s scrubs. The unflattering hospital garb did nothing to diminish her beauty, still stunning in her mid-fifties. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. “Trent! Ciao. How good it is to see you.”
“Simone.” He leaned down to kiss each cheek she offered, a painful lump in his throat. One of the sweetest, most generous people he’d ever met, her kind heart had balanced Lorenzo’s brusque demeanor to perfection. Based on her happy smile of welcome, Trent knew she had no clue what’d happened yesterday morning. He wanted to hug her tight and tell her right then—get it over with—but that would be too much of a shock. Hopefully, a more sensitive opportunity would present itself.
“Renzo’s not here, but please, come in,” Simone offered. “I need a moment to change from my work clothes.”
Trent took her hand before she could back away from the doorway. “Simone, I need your help.”
She answered with a puzzled smile, but no hesitation. “Of course I will help you. Tell me what you need.”
Trent took a deep breath and battled a twinge of duplicity for not telling her about Lorenzo first. But Rachel might not have time. “A friend is in trouble. She was shot, but we can’t go to a hospital. People are searching for her.”
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