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His heart was in his throat when he saw her, tied to a pole, her hair wet, like something had been poured over her face.
Diaz stood in front of her, his brother to the side. Rowan stood behind her while everyone else stood in a circle around them like she was a circus act.
His eyes swept over the factory, counting the men he could see. Most of them seemed to be in the center, but he noted a few stationed beside the exits.
If they were going to survive this, though, he needed to know where every single man was.
He pressed the arrow button on his remote, then hit the detonator button twice.
Cracking noises rang through the air, followed by the boom of the explosives.
Men started running in all directions, and Diaz and Dominic looked to each other.
“Go!” Dominic yelled at no one in particular, and men came out of their hiding spots and hurried off toward the doors.
Jackson looked to the conveyer belt in front of him; he could use the high sides for protection. He ran forward, light on his feet, careful not to make a noise. He kept his head low, crouching as he ran forward. He darted to the left, to a large silver drum, but not before he saw the rows of pill packets, all filled with round white pills. He grabbed one, sliding it into his pocket and kept running. When he reached the wall, he inched away as Diaz’s voice boomed through the plant.
“You’re both the same. You couldn’t keep your nose out of other people’s business,” he said, kicking her in the stomach.
She grunted as she leaned forward as far as the ropes allowed. Jackson wanted to run toward her, but he needed to focus on getting them both out of there alive.
“There’s something about you King girls... you fool men as easily as you breathe oxygen. Did you know Olivia was dating Dominic? But then she decided to leave him... said she loved someone else—one of his men. She humiliated him, so Dominic put her lover in a barrel to punish her.”
Jackson’s mind reeled. The morgue still had one unidentified body from the barrels they’d taken the night of the raid. Now he knew who it belonged to.
Diaz continued, “So Olivia decided to retaliate and punish Dominic by trying to take down our organization. She knew the risks she was taking but she thought Dominic was too in love with her—too weak to kill her—and she was right. But she forgot about me. I killed her, and I enjoyed every second of it. I was not going to let her take down this operation, and I’m not going to let you either. I enjoyed killing Olivia, and I’ll enjoy killing you even more,” he said, his voice riled with anger.
Jackson heard the footsteps before he saw the toes of his shoes stick out from the wall. Jackson lunged, bringing a knife to the man’s throat, cutting it and dragging his body out of view. The man didn’t stand a chance. They were waiting for Jackson outside, but he’d slipped in. Now he needed to use this to his advantage. He climbed the metal ladder to the upper level and ran from one concrete pillar to the next, his heart pounding against his chest.
He surveyed the upper level, but didn’t see any of Diaz’s men. They all looked to be on the ground floor or outside, attending to the explosions Jackson had caused.
Jackson’s breath caught in his lungs as they pulled an already wet stocking over her mouth and tipped her head back.
She fought against the restraints, but she didn’t scream.
He knew now why her hair was wet.
Anna!He wanted to run to her, and it took everything he had not to scream her name as a bucket of water was poured over her. They were waterboarding her as a form of punishment. She would feel like she was drowning—in reality, she was drowning—the stocking allowed for water intake, but she couldn’t expel it.
It felt like it went on for minutes, but it was probably only seconds.
He would not allow that to happen again—not on his watch.
Meet me at the west entrance. You need to see this tonight. Aventador.
She’d used the code word. He’d told her he would come for her, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.
Jackson looked at Diaz’s hand, spotting a phone with a purple cover.
Anna’s phone.
Jackson wondered how she’d explained that last word, but it was likely she’d said it was her informant name. She must’ve typed it and sent it before he could stop her. Though, he was still surprised he’d allowed her to type it herself. But, for a man like Diaz—it would be yet another way to torture her, to make her betray Jackson and choose him.
Ego.
Diaz grabbed her hair, pulling her head up.
Jackson pressed the detonator button twice more.
