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I roll up the driveway, trying to appear casual. I don’t want to fly in with tires squealing. It takes all the self-control I have not to. I pull slowly to a stop in front of the garage area, off to the side of the main house. Two guys, dressed in all black gear with guns, stand outside, talking. They start to walk toward me.
Then, a shrill, startling cry pierces the quiet day, and they glance at each other before jogging to the front of the house. I wait to make sure one isn’t going to break off and come over to my car before I step out. I can hear wailing and screaming, and I assume whatever diversion Francesca has going is working.
I duck back down for Geo’s gun still on the console and insert it into my second chest holster. I’m ready.
I jog for the side door, which is exactly where she said it would be. I open it and hold my breath, but it’s quiet, and no one is directly inside. It opens into a side room with lots of boxes and shelves. It looks like it’s used for storage. Probably where supplies are dropped off and picked up since it’s so close to the driveway.
I creep through the room, keeping my ear tilted toward the doorway and drawing one of my guns. I hold it with both hands. As I step through the doorway, I point it out, swinging it in a wide arc. No one is there. I continue down the hallway and mentally follow directions.
Then, there are pounding footsteps behind me. I shift, putting my back to the wall inside an alcove and drawing my gun in close as I glance over. Two men are running straight toward where I’m hiding, their hands to one ear, talking into a mouthpiece.
But they are moving too fast to see me. A radio crackles somewhere with a code, and I wonder if they are responding to Francesca or if Lilliana’s charade has started. They don’t look over, both running past as if I wasn’t even there.
Then, I’m at the corner, where the sitting room entrance is, and I stand against the wall and listen. The door flies open, and Viktor rushes out, heading away from me down the hall.
Now is my chance. As soon as I take a step toward the room I know Wryn is in, cold metal meets my temple, and I freeze.
“We’ve been expecting you,” a voice says from behind me.
I shut my eyes briefly in frustration and then raise my hands. How could I have been so fucking stupid?
“Why don’t you drop the weapon and walk forward … slowly? There, right through those double doors.” His tone holds a hint of mirth and excitement.
He no doubt thinks that Viktor will reward him for my capture. But I don’t intend to be captured. I take a few steps forward, like he suggested.
“I said, drop the gun!” he yells.
I whirl, my raised arm catching his wrist, knocking the gun from his grasp. It hits the floor with a thump as I twist his arm, turning to the side so that he’s forced to pivot or have his arm broken. I’ve got one arm pinned behind his back, and he grapples with me with his free hand, managing to hook it around the back of my neck. He dips forward quickly in an attempt to throw me over his shoulder, but I’ve still got his arm, and it comes with me. He screams as his arm gives way, the muscles underneath his skin tearing. Then, he ends up on the floor, in the fetal position as he holds his fucked up arm, moaning.
“It’s been a pleasure.” I hiss the words at him and then spin as the doors behind me open.
Another man appears, no doubt trying to determine what all the noise was. His gun is in his hands, aimed straight at me, and I don’t have the advantage of being close. By the time I could make it to him and disarm, he’d have already pulled the trigger, stopping me in my tracks. Stopping me in this life most likely.
Where would that leave Wryn? Where would that leave Lilliana? All the people who depend on me?
I might be brave, but I’m not stupid. I drop my gun, and it clatters to the ground between us, the sound stark in the quiet of the hallway.
“Get inside,” the man says, growling at me as he steps back and motions with his Ruger at the door he came out of.
I slide my arms up, doing as he said, as my mind whirls.
A radio crackles, and the man reaches for his earpiece, sliding it in and then talking. “I’ve got him. Send boss back.”
His words let me know I don’t have much time, but the thought fades away as soon as I cross the threshold and lock eyes with the one woman I thought I would never see again.
Turns out, Geo was right; the picture was a fake.
26
WRYN
I’m not taken back to the house or anywhere else to be stowed away. They bring me to Viktor. Actually, they push me in front of him, and I hit my knees. I’m thankful for my sweatpants now, which shield me from getting more bruises.
“I had so hoped you wouldn’t be a problem, Wryn,” Viktor says.
He’s reclined on his couch, one ankle crossed over his knee and his right arm up on the armrest, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
I suppose he doesn’t have a care in the world.
