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A distant thud stopped his approach. Frowning, he paused for a moment and listened. She glanced toward the ceiling, praying it hadn’t been the wind. Please, Dakota, save me.
Seconds passed, and when they heard no other sound, he gripped the scissors and cut another chunk of her hair.
She winced, knowing the loss of hair paled compared to what she was about to lose. Her face, her dignity, her life with Dakota. It was the idea of never seeing him again that made her most sad and angry.
He’d grabbed a third handful of hair and raised the scissors when a loud thump echoed from above. He fisted her hair tighter. Another bang crashed, followed by the sound of wood splintering.
“Robbie, they’ve found you,” she said. “Robbie, please, you still have time to escape. Run while you can.”
He clung to her hair an extra beat before he released it and glared at the door. “They have not found me. I made sure we were well hidden.”
“Please, Robbie, run.”
“Stop telling me what to do. Get out of my head.” He was clearly agitated. “No one is going to take you away from me. No one.” DeLuca patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To take care of any trespassers.”
When he vanished through the door, she focused on the loose wristband. She twisted her hand, pulling and straining against the strap, feeling her skin bruise and scrape. The leather creaked and stretched, wanting to give way. She yanked harder as tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks.
She would not die in this room.
When the door splintered, Sharp stumbled inside but quickly steadied himself. He stared inside the dark warehouse space. The main level was vacant except for scattered boxes and trash that still remained from the last tenant. The windows were covered with white shades that had yellowed over time. In the center of the room were several pillars, and in the back, a door. Sharp reached for the light switch, but when he flipped it, nothing happened. He moved toward the door and found it locked with a dead bolt.
Sharp started to move when McLean laid his hand on his shoulder. “What?”
“Listen,” McLean said.
They both stilled a beat, and somewhere below them the stairs creaked.
“He’s here,” McLean said. “And on the move.”
Headlights swiped across the front of the building, and he saw the flash of blue lights. Through the broken door, he spotted a Virginia State Police cruiser. Riley rose out of the car and rushed into the building, her weapon drawn.
“More on the way,” she said.
“There’s a door inside that’s locked,” Sharp said.
She glanced at her cruiser and ran back to retrieve a tire iron. As she raced up to Sharp, she studied McLean. “Who are you?” Riley asked.
“Later,” Sharp said, taking the tire iron.
The trio raced toward the door. Sharp drove the tire iron into the doorjamb and, using leverage, popped the door loose.
DeLuca heard the grind of metal against metal seconds before wood split. The house had been breached. A helpless rage rolled over him, and he pressed his fists to his temples. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t fair! No one had the right to come into his house and take what was his. He was just getting started with Serenity, and he was not going to let anyone take her from him. He’d waited too long. Planned and dreamed about their time together for too long.
The thud of footsteps creaked on the floor above him, and he knew they were coming for him. The urge to burn the building down around them all was strong. He ran back to a storage closet and unlocked it quickly. Inside was a canister of thermite, a metal powder he used to start his fires. If he spread the accelerant on the steps and set it ablaze, then that would buy him time to get out the back with his Serenity.
Simply thinking about the fire calmed his nerves and cleared his muddled thoughts. He wedged open the container and ran up the steps. He dumped it on the wooden staircase, which would be the perfect tinder for his blaze.
At the bottom of the stairs, he tossed the empty vessel aside and reached for a match in his pocket. Just as he struck it, the door at the top of the stairs slammed open.
He looked up into the face of Dakota Sharp, whose eyes burned like Lucifer’s. He dropped the match and ran to get his Serenity. If he moved fast, he could grab his Serenity and escape out the back as the fires consumed Agent Sharp.
“Help!” Tessa shouted when she heard the crash upstairs. “Help!” The acrid scent of smoke drifted from somewhere above her. Her heart kicked hard in her chest. DeLuca had set a fire.
Tears pooled in Tessa’s eyes as she pulled so hard on the strap that the skin on her hand bled. Instead of frustration, she yanked harder, hoping the blood would make her skin slick. She twisted and turned her wrist, unmindful of the pain.
As the scent of smoke grew heavier, footsteps thudded in the hallway and she knew DeLuca was coming back. “I am not dying here today.”
With a final, desperate pull, she jerked her hand free. Success chased fear as she focused her attention to the other strap. Her fingers trembling, she undid the buckle and she quickly swiped away the leather. She rolled and stumbled free of the chair, falling on her hands and knees. Even as her head spun from adrenaline, she scrambled to her feet. Footsteps thudded closer toward the door. She raced to the worktable and grabbed the scissors, gripping them in her blood-soaked hand.
The door banged open.
DeLuca stood in the doorway, his eyes wild with fury and panic. When he saw her standing, his dark eyes narrowed and he raced toward her.
She braced.
Gripped the scissors.
She held her ground, knowing if she ran, he’d catch her and it all might be over. She had to stand her ground. Wait for her moment to strike.
When he was only inches from her and reaching for her arm, she lunged.
DeLuca tried to sidestep the blow, but she was quick enough to jab the scissors in his forearm. As smoke began to roll in from the open doorway, he howled. He recovered quickly and sprang for her again. “I know you are afraid, Serenity, but I’m here to save you. The building is on fire. We only have a minute before this space fills with smoke.”
He moved to grab her again as if his words were enough to soothe her, but she struck again, cutting his arm once more. He howled, all traces of worry vanishing in a flash of pain.
She raised the scissors to strike.
“Fucking bitch,” he growled as he grabbed her wrist, suspending the scissors in midair. “I thought you were different.”
“I’m not your goddamned doll, you twisted son of a bitch.”
DeLuca looked hurt for a split second before he grabbed her hand and twisted so hard that bone snapped. Pain shot through her arm. He’d broken her wrist.
As the smoke crawled through the room, she thought about all the times Sharp had lectured her about self-defense. All the times she just wanted him to let the past go. Balling up fingers from her good hand, she drove it straight for his throat. He barely deflected the move and grabbed her by the neck. His fingers clamped into her like an iron vise, and the madness darkening his eyes told her he was seconds from crushing her windpipe.
She jabbed her knee up, aiming for his groin but striking his thigh. The blow was enough to make him grunt and ease up on her throat for an instant.
He slapped her hard across the face. Her thoughts scattered as the pain ricocheted through her skull. He raised his hand to strike again.
The door slammed open with such force, the hinges gave way. Through the smoke she saw Dakota. His eyes were dark and feral as he raised his weapon.
DeLuca grabbed Tessa and turned her around as he tightened his grip on her neck. Dakota had trained for years as a sniper, and though it had been a decade since he’d been in the military, he didn’t hesitate to take a difficult shot. He fired twice.
Both bullets struck the side of DeLuca’s head and burrowed through his
brain. Blood and brain matter sprayed her face. Tessa flinched as she stared at Dakota, his gun still pointing at his target. For a moment she was afraid to move for fear Dakota would have to shoot again.
DeLuca’s grip slackened, and he fell to his knees, his dead weight pulling her down with him. His weight pinned her to the floor, knocking the air from her lungs. She pushed against him, desperate to be free.
Dakota yanked him off Tessa, and weapon still drawn, quickly scanned the room for any other threats. McLean rushed the doorway with Riley.
Holstering his weapon, Dakota gathered her up in his arms. “Tessa?”
Her tears tumbled uncontrollably as her fingers gripped his arm. The iron hold she’d had on her fear slackened and gave way.
Sharp picked her up, and they all hurried toward the back exit that led outside to a set of concrete steps that rose to a back parking lot.
Outside, the cool fresh air brushed her face as the roar of the fire inside the building grew more ferocious.
Dakota wiped DeLuca’s blood from her face. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head as she stared at the blood now clinging to Dakota’s palms. “Just my wrist.”
He touched her shorn hair. “Are you sure? Tessa, you can tell me anything.”
She hugged him carefully, guarding her injured wrist. “I’m okay. He was going to do terrible things, but you stopped him. You saved me.”
His arms tightened into a steel band. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I’m here.” She’d never stopped to think he’d been as terrified as she had been.
