Held

by T K Barber

  Was it a potentially stupid plan? Yep. But it beat the hell out of sitting in a parking lot.

  Of all the things he was reluctant to divulge, telling Scarlet's mom that he had, in fact, failed at keeping her daughter safe was top of that list.

  Finally across the bridge, Nick's pulse slammed as the funeral home slowly came into view.

  Only a few cars left. God, please let one of those be hers.

  His Ford's engine rumbled as he parked beside an exquisite Bentley. He'd bet his life savings he knew who owned that one.

  Out he leapt, dashing across the pavement and slipping through the large double doors as fast as he could. He barely kept from careening into the adjacent wall as he skidded to a stop.

  “Nick? What on Earth?” Marianna's gasp reached his ears before she emerged from behind a podium.

  “Cosa sta succedendo?” Rico ran up behind Marianna, before overtaking her and stepping between them.

  “Scarlet's been taken,” Nick panted. “A guy named Steven Greene. You need to—”

  “Steven!” Marianna passed a wide-eyed glance to Rico, color draining from her face.

  “The Wolf's ward,” Rico spat. “What is he playing at?”

  “I'm not sure, but he has to be acting on his own. Lyle wouldn't dare hurt—” Marianna cut herself off with a hard swallow. The tremor in her voice somehow made her knife-like tone all the more terrifying.

  Rico gripped Nick by the shoulders, jaw clenched. “Where?”

  “I don't know . . . and it's not just her either. I—my sister . . . he wants me to choose, and . . .” Nick trailed off, swimming through a hurricane of emotions. After all this time, all the murders, keeping it a secret, bearing it alone, even mentioning that much threatened to drag him under.

  “Nick.” Marianna nudged Rico out of the way and placed a warm hand on Nick's cheek. However, the fingers of her other hand dug like daggers into his shoulder, her eyes on fire. “I have a plan, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that? And do you have a gun?”

  He might have laughed in another life, but instead, he nodded, a minuscule spark of hope daring to sputter to life.

  “Good boy.” She patted Nick's cheek before letting her hand drop and refocusing fully on Rico. “Here's what we're going to do.”

  Annalise

  Was he coming? Was he even still alive?

  There surprisingly wasn't a groove worn in the floor yet as she turned on her heel again and headed back the same path, even though she figured there’d be by now. She'd been unable to sit still since Thomas left. All she could think about was when he'd be back. If he'd be back. If he'd be able to get her out. If she was even willing to let him risk it.

  She glanced up at the window and the waning sunlight. Every inch further it set raised her anxiety two-fold. She was hungry again. In all the excitement of today, no one had brought her anything.

  But she wasn't really in a state of mind to eat. Even though she was light-headed and lethargic again. Her stupid brain was being slow too. Oh, the joys of slow starvation.

  She had just sat down to give her legs a break when the familiar door handle sound shocked her. He heart leaped to her throat, and she shot up. God, please be Thomas!

  The door creaked open and scraped across the frame. A shudder wracked her. She hated that noise so much.

  Thomas sped in, holding his finger to his mouth. Annalise's eyes went wide, and she scanned the empty room just to make sure.

  He came! He was really there! Her heart slammed so hard she got dizzy, but she smiled.

  He skidded the last step, a fierce expression plastered on his face. Joy exploded in her, and she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him several times with the pain-free side of her mouth, grinning at the feel of his scar on her lip.

  An unfamiliar object at his waist drew her gaze to a hefty gun jutting from his waistband. She smiled wider. He came prepared.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” she whispered, squeezing him tight. “Still time to back out.”

  He grinned at her and winked. “Hell yeah. Best choice I ever made. Come on; we gotta move.”

  She gave him another kiss and wiped a tear from her cheek, wincing as the salt stung her cut lip. He grabbed her hand and headed toward the door, whispering over his shoulder.

  “Listen, Anna, this place is loaded for bear for some damn reason. Never seen this many guys in one place. Stay close, stay quiet, an' stay gorgeous. We'll be outta here in no time.”

  She nodded as he put his back to the wall, leaning his head through the door frame.

  She was so happy to see him again. It'd been too long as far as she was concerned. Though every day wouldn't have been enough.

  Skin her eyes hadn’t had the pleasure of staring at caught her eye, and she glanced down at his exposed forearms. His rolled-up sleeves revealed some seriously ornate tattoos, just waiting to be explored. So, her fuzzy brain decided she should do just that.

  She traced one gold and red swirl, shocked to find it wound over scars. His muscle jumped under her fingers, but she continued the spiral trail until he stilled her hand. She lifted her gaze to his, and he swallowed.

  Her heart cracked when she realized what those were.

  Without another pause, she picked his arm up and placed a tender kiss in the center of the design, then rested her cheek against it.

  She’d never let anyone hurt him again.

  He spun and cupped her face in his palms, then took her mouth in a breath-stealing kiss.

  That was it. In one hundred percent honesty, she’d never love another soul on this planet. She’d die with Thomas Valentine tattooed on her heart.

  He pulled back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, gracing her with another up-close look at those breathtaking eyes. His smile faded and his lids lowered as he pulled his lips into a tight frown.

  “I may have to kill someone.” His throaty whisper raised the hairs on her neck, and she swallowed. “Or several. You gonna be okay with that? I'd kill 'em all to get you out, but I don't want to if I don't have to. Just . . . know that.”

  It took two seconds for the words to reach her nutritionally deprived brain; then she gave a firm nod. She wanted out. There'd be no love lost if they all died as far as she was concerned. In fact, there was one, in particular, she’d like to watch die.

  After Thomas scanned the hall again, he pulled her through the opening and down the little hall at a trot, then stopped at another door. He peeked through that opening but pulled back. He shook his head and put his finger to his mouth again, then leaned back against the wall to listen, while she studied his profile.

  She couldn't help but smile as his throat bobbed. After everything she'd been through. How horrible it had been at first. How painful each hit was. How hungry she got. How sore she was from the God-awful bed. How cold it got at night. How sad she was that Nick had to kill. It all brought him to her. And she was almost a little happy. No . . . she was happy. She wouldn't have met him otherwise. Did it suck ass? Yes. But it brought her Thomas.

  She noticed a birthmark behind his ear and reached up to touch it.

  At least, she hoped that’s what it was. She really didn’t like that he’d had so much damage done to him.

  He dropped a quick look to her with raised eyebrows. She pointed, and he mouthed “Burn.” then scrunched the side of his face. She frowned, but he bumped her shoulder, smiling. He pointed to his mouth and smiled wider, nodding to her and raising his eyebrows again.

  Why’d he have to be so freaking cute? Always wanting her to smile.

  She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, and he beamed as he leaned down to kiss her. He inched his head through the opening again but yanked it back with a frown. He raised his brows and cast his eyes down to her again.

  “You gonna run the register?” He whispered before turning his head back to listen. She was so focused on needing to be quiet that his voice startled her. She looke
d at him blankly.

  “What?”

  He turned to face her again with his cute, boyish grin.

  “In our shop. Someone pretty as you's up front? Man, twice the customers. Easy.”

  Her breath caught. Our shop. That still sounded incredible. She smiled and whispered back, barely hearing herself over the happy slams of her heart. She wasn't even thinking about the pain anymore.

  “Sure, but on days I wear makeup you have to pay me double.”

  He laughed, nearly failing to stay quiet, then pointed to the opposite wall. She nodded and gripped his hand as they cleared the open hall, then pressed their backs to the cold metal.

  He mouthed 'almost there,' and she squeezed his hand, earning herself another ‘Thomas’ grin before he scanned the hall again. His brow furrowed, and he yanked her down to a crouching position, putting his finger to his mouth again.

  He was so clever. Handling all of this like he'd been planning it for months. Like some kind of pro. She couldn't believe she almost killed herself; she’d have missed all of this. Missed a real chance to be with him.

  He dropped her hand to rub his own down his face, then shot her a look and a frown. He mimed for her to cover her ears and put his finger to his mouth, prompting her eyes to widen. She nodded and threw her hands up to block the sound as he slowly pulled out the gun and cocked it.

  So, he really was going to kill someone, or at least hurt them. It was one thing to think or talk about it, but to be faced with it . . . she was surprisingly okay. She wanted out.

  One deep breath in as the muscles jumped in his jaw, and she was ready. He lined up the sight, and when his finger twitched, she squeezed her eyes shut. But the shot never came.

  She reopened her eyes to the sounds of distant shouts around the warehouse. Thomas quickly holstered the gun and looked at her, eyes wide and brows knitted. Sporadic shots rang out, and she slapped her hands over her mouth. Thomas growled and scooted closer to crouch beside her.

  “Damn it, Anna.” He rubbed his hand down his face again. “Shit just got real complicated. I dunno who's shooting who! I dunno if we should stay here or make a break for it!”

  He furrowed his chin and brow and pursed his lips in thought. When he glanced back at her, he softened his expression and put a hand to her cheek, no doubt trying to calm the fear she was radiating and failing to hide.

  “Hey, it's all good. Don't worry. I'll take care of you. Let's sit tight here for another second. Maybe they'll kill each other off an’ we can just waltz right out, yeah?”

  At once, they both noticed the lack of gunfire. They strained to hear for a few more seconds before Thomas raised up to get a good look.

  She grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, but he gently brushed her hand away. He looked through the little window for several seconds before he dropped back down with a shrug. He held up a finger, and she nodded, grateful they were waiting a little longer.

  You could never be too safe when guns were involved.

  Ice cream. That was the first thing she wanted. Strawberry. No . . . something with caramel. Yeah, that'd be good. And a burger.

  Maybe she'd ask Thomas to take her to one of his favorite places to eat. If she could wait that long. Maybe they could stop at a drive-through on the way to his favorite restaurant. Intense hunger pain twisted her stomach, and she frowned.

  After another few seconds had passed, he took her hand, keeping them crouched as they moved along the wall.

  They had to be close. Her heart slammed. She was almost going to get to see Nick again. Be with Thomas. Watch TV. With Thomas! Eat a real meal! A soft, warm, fuzzy blanket. And a pillow! And no more damn seagulls!

  She was way too excited. Calm down. Thomas must have noticed the change since he shot her another wink. Her thoughts hazed, but she fought to stay focused. Almost there.

  They stopped where the half wall ended at a door frame. Nervous excitement needled her palms and she clenched her fists.

  She couldn't wait to look up a few more jokes to tell Ms. Eliza. She tried to come up with some on her own, but she wasn't good at it. Even so, Eliza always got such a kick out of the ones she did tell her.

  She was such an awesome old lady.

  And she knew for a fact she'd love Thomas; who wouldn't?! And he'd love her too, for sure. They could all be like, one crazy family! With Nick thrown in there for good measure! She smiled. Almost there.

  Eerie silence blanketed the warehouse. Maybe they had either all left or killed each other off. To say that’d be great was a huge understatement.

  Thomas rotated a little to catch her flitting, excited gaze. He waved his hand in front of her face with amusement glowing on his own. She smiled and mouthed “sorry,” and he shook his head with a wide grin.

  He pantomimed the two of them standing up, walking through the door, and taking a left. She nodded and squeezed his hand as a toothy smile threatened to split her face. He tried not to laugh and squeezed it back. Almost there.

  He stood up first and pulled her up beside him.

  So far, so good! God, she was so hungry. Maybe two burgers.

  Thomas threw a look over his shoulder as he urged her through the doorway, close behind her.

  Oh, my God the door . . . almost there!

  In a combination of excitement and mental fog from lack of food, she stumbled forward a step into a metal wastebasket that scraped the ground. She was turning around to apologize when she heard it.

  Scarlet

  The buzz of Steven’s phone shattered the quiet. Scarlet tweaked her wrist when she jumped, which made the hand that worked on the rope ache.

  Steven laughed and shook his head in disbelief, then whirled around and shoved the phone in her face.

  “Look at this. Unbelievable!”

  On the screen rested one word.

  SCARLET.

  He dropped his arm, and picked it back up to look at it, again. He laughed louder and slapped a hand on his cheek.

  “What an idiot. Who chooses the lion’s den? Dumbass probably thinks he’s going to come in here and wipe us all out. He just killed his sister AND himself. The stars really are aligning!”

  He tapped on the screen a few times, before turning his face up to the ceiling with the sickest smile she'd ever seen. She shuddered and winced in expectation.

  Contentment oozed from his body with his sigh as his shoulders relaxed.

  Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he’d not b—

  He grabbed Scarlet’s hair and craned her neck, making her suck in a sharp breath.

  Nope, he was still a douche.

  They locked eyes for one heartbeat before another sick, sly smile spread on his face. He moved her head around by her hair and hummed in approval, followed by a sick chuckle.

  “You know, I think I might leave you like this. You're at just about the right height in that chair.”

  He craned her neck further back and ducked to run his tongue down her neck, and along her collar bone.

  She almost threw up and curled her lip in disgust. All she could think about was how the hell she was going to get out of his.

  Steven sat the phone down on her lap and kept hold of her hair as he slid his other hand across her chest and grabbed her breast. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh, forcing a scream from her drawn tight throat.

  “This is going to be fun. There won't be much left when I'm done with you. And I. Can't. Wait.” He shoved her head out of his hand and snatched the phone as he straightened. “If you'll excuse me, I need to go make sure everything is in order for the spectacular finale.” He stormed to the door and spoke over his shoulder. “Don't go anywhere.”

  The door closed behind him without fanfare.

  “Christ, I've got to get out of here!” She worked furiously at the rope, now unencumbered by the need to be discrete. She tugged and jerked, grunted with effort, and fought to keep from getting hysterical.

  Every move she
made was agonizing. Each increased the tension on the ropes, but she fought through the pain.

  “God! Please!”

  She sucked in weeping breaths as the pain in her arms approached unbearable. Then she stilled and hung her head to take a calming breath.

  “Okay. The rope wants to come off. I just have to figure it out.”

  The main end of the rope, as best she could figure, was up just above where she could reach. What she'd been working loose were just ends of it, but it was definitely there.

  “God! If I could just reach!” She strained upward against the ropes, tweaking her shoulder. Oh. Her eyes went wide.

  Shit. She was going to need serious physical therapy if she lived. Mental, too probably.

  She knitted her eyebrows and closed her eyes, breathing out a slow, steadying breath. She eased her hand toward the center of her back, applying constant upward pressure, increasing the pain in her shoulder little by little. She went as far as she could, the pain close to pushing a scream from her mouth. Just . . . a little . . .

  Tears streamed freely down her trembling face. The tendons in her shoulder pulled and threatened to split back open. It took every ounce of restraint she had not to cry out and give up.

  Her whole body shuddered from the pain and effort. There! Her eyes flew open. Fingers hooked into the loop of the rope, she exhaled a short laugh before sucking in a breath and pulling slowly.

  The rope gave just a little more.

  Another excruciatingly painful tug and a strap loosened on her opposite arm. But instead of joy that time, she nearly screamed, the agony unbearable.

  Blood rushed to refill the deep impressions left by the rope, and the throbbing nearly blinded her. She bit her lip and worked her fingers further into the rope.

  Another loop loosened on her arm, and she closed her eyes, hardly able to keep from sobbing. There was no way her shoulder would stay intact long.

  If only the one being released was the wounded one!