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“Several are already on the way,” his boss assured him. “Sheriff O’Neil and a couple of deputies, too. They should be there in less than five minutes.”
Jericho reached Rachel and pulled her into his arms. All the pain he’d been feeling just vanished. So did that invisible vising grip on his heart.
Rachel was alive.
She was safe.
And he was in love with her.
Later, he’d tell her that, too, but for now, Jericho had one last thing to do. He turned and took aim at Daxton.
“Where the hell is Sasha?” Jericho demanded.
Chapter Twenty-two
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Rachel certainly hadn’t forgotten about Woody’s granddaughter, but with everything that’d just happened, it hadn’t been in the forefront of her mind.
It was now though.
Paulie was dead, literally at her feet, and there were no indications that either Manson or Jason had been working with him. Just the opposite. Paulie had been willing to kill them both just as he’d done to the others who were on his revenge list.
“Well?” Jericho prompted. “Daxton, where’s Sasha?”
Daxton cursed. “You can’t kill me or you’ll never find out,” he spewed. Even now, the asshole could taunt.
Jericho shifted his attention to Marco, who’d moved over to yank off Daxton’s mask and restrain him.
“Either he tells you where Sasha is or ram your steel-toed combat boot right in his balls,” Jericho told Marco.
“Sounds good,” Marco agreed. “I’m in a ball-crushing mood.” He moved his boot to Daxton’s crotch and started pressing down hard.
Daxton yelled in pain, and he kept yelling as Marco continued to apply more and more pressure. It didn’t take long. Only a couple of seconds of Daxton writhing and making whimpering sounds.
“She’s in the trunk of the car,” Daxton yelled.
Marco kept his boot firmly in place. “Someone want to go check and see if that’s true?” he asked as Woody bolted out of the compound. He was heavily armed and clearly ready to find his granddaughter.
“The car is parked on a trail just to the east of the compound,” Ruby said, and Jericho quickly relayed that to Woody, who hurried off.
Several more people came out of the compound, including a woman named Lizzy Markham that Rachel recalled had been a nursing assistant. Lizzy hurried to Manson and Jason while Marco used zip ties on Daxton’s hands and feet.
“Thanks for your help,” Jericho called out to Marco.
“Any time. I love doling out hard justice to asshole dicks. It’s why I had it needlepointed on a pillow.”
“He’s not joking about the pillow,” Jericho muttered to her. He lowered his arm to her waist and moved her away from the body.
Rachel saw that she had Paulie’s blood on her, and while it turned her stomach a little, she considered it better than having her own blood on her clothes. Or Jericho’s.
Though he was bleeding.
She could see splatters of it on his neck and his sleeve.
“I’m sure you’ll need to be restitched,” she told him.
Probably,” he admitted. “But I’ll worry about that later.”
