Page 105 of Every Last Breath

Gripping the side of the bracket between her wrists and the flex-cuffs, she shook it, loosening it from the wall. Over and over. The corroded edge of metal scratched the soft flesh on the inside of her wrist.

The top rusty screw popped out enough for her to grasp with her thumb and index finger. She unscrewed it, bit by bit, until it slipped out. She set to work on the next one.

Death had spared her for a reason. Maybe it wasn’t her time yet. Maybe she was meant to stop Aleksander Novak. The Ghost was scared. Kidnapping her was an act of desperation.

The second screw popped out and the bracket fell into her hand. She scooted to the next metal bracket and tipped the flat edge of the loose one to it. She honed the dull edges of the metal in her hands, sharpening it.

This job was one uphill battle after another, bringing her nose-to-nose with evil, reminding her life was fragile. At the end of the day, there had to be more for her than this cold, hard fight for the greater good. The work was honorable, but it was difficult, sometimes scary shit. She needed balance.

The one person she’d been most intimate with, closer to in heart and soul than any other, had offered her comfort and warmth. He had risked his pride in admitting he loved her still and always would. In return, she’d said awful things and hurt him.

If she got out of here—fuck that!—when she got out of here, she was going to stop being terrified. Of loving Cole, of losing him, of getting hurt again. Professionally, she faced every threat, endured the grind, worked her way through the fear to get the job done. She had to stop being a lowly coward with him, owed it to herself. He deserved better—along with an apology for how she’d pushed him away.

She put the bracket between her teeth, pressed the edge to the zip tie, and, bobbing her head back and forth, sawed the bracket across the plastic restraint. Bitter flakes of rust hit her tongue. Getting out of there to stop Novak was her sole focus.

No way in hell would she allow herself to be rescued.

I won’t be the weak link in the chain. Not today. Not ever.

Chapter 30

Gray Box Headquarters, Northern Virginia

11:15 a.m. EDT

Cole paced in the break room, the one space in the facility he’d seen drenched in vibrant colors. Art deco paintings hung on the ferocious yellow walls, their mind-boggling waves and splotches of organized chaos in myriad saturated hues. An absolute riot of color.

The rest of the facility with its laid-back tones and cushy vibe was nauseating. This was the one room he managed to tolerate.

Castle strode into the room, wearing the same heavy expression that Cole carried. They eyed each other. Cole stilled, waiting for the answer to his unspoken question. Castle gave a quick, tight-lipped head shake.

No news.

Cole’s nerves frayed a little more. “Someone in this damn dungeon helped that psycho kidnap her. You understand that, right?”

Castle narrowed his eyes and his jaw hardened. “Yeah.” His gaze darted to the hall, where one of Parker’s minions strolled past.

The pixie-faced woman with short, spiky hair must’ve been Nicole Tully, based on what Cole had learned from Amanda. Nicole worked midday hours, afternoons through the evening, and picked up the swing shift when necessary.

He glanced at the clock, noting it seemed a little early for her to be in.

The ITM section was supposed to monitor the digital activity of Sanborn’s people, listen to phone calls, ensure the transmission of data was aboveboard. But did they have access to personnel records and personal information they didn’t need to do their job?

Once Nicole Tully had passed, Castle glared at Cole. “Lower your voice about that issue.”

“Issue?” Cole said in a harsh whisper. “How about major fucking problem? Or deep shit?”

Castle opened his mouth to say something, snapped it shut, and poured a cup of coffee. The son of a gun said something under his breath. It sounded like I won’t be baited.

After a long draw from the mug, Castle said, “I’m not the enemy. Trust and believe I’m itching to take out my frustration on you just as much as you are on me. But the only person that’ll help is Novak. Not Maddox.”

Cole went back to pacing, grinding his teeth over the fact that Castle, of all people, was the voice of reason.

“Look, I don’t like you any more than you like me,” Castle said. “For now, let’s put our crap on the back burner. Why don’t we call a cease-fire, okay?”

Sweet Jesus, more words of wisdom from the big lug. What was next? A bolt of lightning striking six stories below ground?

“Yeah, okay. We both love her. She wouldn’t want us fighting.”