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“Nothin’ good.”
Walter scoffed.
Then suddenly fell.
Hawk stared wide-eyed at Devon’s stepfather as blood seeped from a hole in the center of his forehead, pooling into the carpet around him.
“Asshole,” a Russian voice sneered. Moving into their sightline, Zoran holstered his weapon and pulled out another.
“No time to reload,” he said. “That guy…” He nodded toward the dead man at his feet. “I hear he has always been a pain in the ass.”
“Always,” Devon agreed, staring at the corpse. Pulling back her foot, she kicked him in the head. When she started to kick again, Hawk pulled her back and lifted her into his arms again.
“C’mon, baby girl. Forget about that garbage.” They had to get out of this room. At any moment, someone else might try to stop them.
“My little wildcat,” Cannon breathed.
“I hate him,” she snarled.
“We have to go,” Zoran cut in. “This way.”
He led them into the hallway and then down a corridor in the opposite direction from where they’d entered. By some miracle, they didn’t encounter another person. He threw open a door, revealing an alley and the idling car waiting there.
“Get in,” he ordered. “I need to return inside. Cannot miss my own party. Do not forget what I said, Cowboys from Wyoming.”
Cannon nodded. “Don’t know you. Never heard of you.”
Hawk handed back the gun he’d borrowed, and Zoran returned it to its holster. The Russian’s chin lifted, then he rushed inside. Wasting no time, Hawk helped Devon into the car. Cannon had barely shut his door before the vehicle was speeding away.
Hawk shrugged off his tux coat and wrapped it around their woman. They hugged her, all three of them shaking. They’d gotten her out of the Baranovs’ lair, and Zoran had promised the Baranovs would be wiped off the earth. They wouldn’t bother anyone ever again.
Most importantly, the threat to Devon was gone.
“You’re safe. You’re safe. It’s over,” he whispered to her, but he said it to himself, too. Their woman was safe. They’d rescued her.
Twenty-One
Cannon’s heartbeat wouldn’t slow down, not even as the private jet screamed down the runway, taking them far from Chicago. It wasn’t the same plane that had brought them to the Windy City, but he suspected it belonged to Zoran, even if it was registered under a false name. As they got airborne, however, his brain wouldn’t calm. They’d almost died. They’d almost lost Dev forever. She could have gotten hurt. Those horrors, and a million other terrible scenarios, wouldn’t shut up.
The last day had traumatized them all, and Cannon wasn’t sure he’d be able to release Dev any time soon. At that moment, she was cuddled on his lap while he held her securely in his arms. The armrest had been lifted between the seats, and Hawk was tight against Cannon’s side, Hawk’s arms around them both.
Across from them, Jax busily texted on his phone, all his attention on the screen. Without doubt, he was messaging with Briar and Ram. Cannon figured Jax was relaying what had happened, letting them know that Devon had been rescued and everyone was safe.
She shuddered against him. Their woman hadn’t stopped crying since they’d gotten into the car back at the Baranovs’ building. He knew it was all her pent-up tension and fears releasing, her overwhelming emotions flooding from her. His hand smoothed up and down her back, and he kissed the top of her head. She clung to him, to Hawk, a fist knotted in each of their shirts.
“We’ve got you. You’re okay,” he crooned in a soft voice, reassuring her for perhaps the hundredth time since rescuing her. He’d say it a thousand more, if needed. For her. For himself. The words reassured him just as much as they did her. “We’ll never let anything happen to you.”
“Never,” Hawk echoed. He buried his face in her throat. Cannon kissed the top of Hawk’s head, snaking up a hand to cup the back of his neck. His poor man had faced a lot today, his past and their present.
“I love you both so much,” Hawk murmured. “I was so worried about both of you, scared of something happening to either of you.”
“But nothing did. And we’re safe,” Cannon soothed, uncomfortable in the dynamic shift. Disconcerted. He doubted it would last. Hawk would regain his equilibrium and innate dominant stoicism, soon. Still, it rattled Cannon to see his man so shaken. He was always so contained and in control, their rock in every situation.
Jax cleared his throat.
“I’m gonna…” As he rose, he pointed his thumb toward the seats farther back in the plane, indicating he’d leave them alone and afford them a little privacy.
Cannon watched him go, aware that the other two likely didn’t realize Jax had left. Hell, he wasn’t even sure they knew the guy had been seated across from them until the plane had leveled out.
