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I spun around, suspecting the agent in the third SUV shot me in the shoulder because he thought I was trying to escape. Instead, I was greeted by the sight of the man who’d tased Gray shooting the other agent alongside him. Another fucking traitor.
Regaining my bearings, I raised my good arm in one fast movement and fired. Kill shot. Two more just in case—to ensure he was put down for good—and then I turned back toward the tunnel exit, grateful the agents that’d been with me had my back, keeping me from getting shot in it.
Ignoring the searing pain in my shoulder, I ran by our SUV, hauling ass to get to Charley before— “I’m too late.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHARLOTTE
He’s okay. Jack has to be okay. He can’t . . . I mean, Camila would’ve told me if Jack was going to . . . Damnit, I needed to pull it together. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I couldn’t afford to lose it now. I didn’t want to inadvertently screw up Lucy’s fate by not being able to maintain my focus.
We’d only been in the air for ten minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. And right now, I wanted nothing more than to hug my sister. Provide her some sense of comfort. But I couldn’t. My hands were still cuffed behind my back and Lucy’s were now zip-tied on her lap. It was too hard to talk over the helo blades chopping the air, so I waited for her attention to turn my way and mouthed, “It’ll be okay.” A false promise in the dimly lit space, but hopefully a little light of hope for her.
A heartbeat later, my shoulder collided with hers when the pilot stopped suddenly and began hovering in the same spot. The traitor Fed sat across from us talking into the attached microphone on his headset, and the passenger by the pilot—the monster who’d used my sister as a shield—twisted back to look at us. He gave him a thumbs-up, and I assumed that meant we were clear to land.
I highly doubted we were at the spot the team had pulled up aerial surveillance for back in Ecuador. No, that had only been a trap to get us here.
The second we landed, and the pilot killed the engine, Lucy shocked me by using the chance to yell, “You’re a disgrace. A murderer. A traitor and—”
“Shut up,” the agent snapped back, sounding more annoyed than angry. He leaned forward to unstrap us in preparation for moving us out of the helo, but my sister went for surprise two.
She lunged toward the bastard. With her clasped hands, she brought her fists up beneath his chin like it was a volleyball. Holy shit. She got him good, but all she did was piss him off.
I didn’t need Camila’s gift to see what was coming next. I bolted up, bumping my head against the ceiling to block his swing and took the punch to my jaw instead. My head snapped left as pain radiated throughout my entire skull at the impact.
“Stupid bitch. Always taking the hits for your sister.” He shoved me on the seat as Lucy murmured an apology to me.
A moment later, the door slid open, and I blinked at the bright lights behind two men standing there. My stomach dropped the second they stepped closer. Erik Luther and the man I’d thought I’d killed stared at me.
You let me go eleven years ago, why kill me now?
“The other agent didn’t make it,” the crooked Fed said, joining the two men on the ground. “And we left some men alive back in the tunnel. I hadn’t planned on going back to my old life, but now—”
“What happened in there?” Erik’s hands were at his sides, and his eyes remained locked on to mine. “Did you hit them?” The ice in his tone was a curveball of hope, and I latched on to it eagerly.
“What? They got feisty when we landed.” The agent swiped his palms alongside his pants, wiping away blood that wasn’t there.
Erik turned slowly, his hand reaching behind his back, and he became the killer he hadn’t appeared to be right before my eyes. He shot the Fed in the face without hesitation. And on instinct, I shifted in front of Lucy to shield her from the sight of the man dying, like she was fourteen, and I could protect her from all the bad things in the world.
Erik casually tucked the gun at the back of his jeans, grabbed something from his pocket and swiped at the blood that’d splattered onto his face and neck. “Out,” he said to us while tucking the material back into his pocket.
The security guard—who, based on the harsh look in his eyes, clearly wanted me dead—flicked his wrist, motioning for us to move.
When neither of us budged, because why would we walk into a shark’s mouth on purpose, Erik turned our way and reached up. “Easy way or hard way?” He tipped his head to the side, eyes meeting mine, then offered his hand.
I swallowed, unsure of what to do. Where would I even go? Ask the pilot for an Uber lift out of there?
“Charlotte.” The way Erik said my name didn’t sound as much like a demand to hurry as him asking me to trust him.
I think the fuck not.
“Hard way it is.” The security guard sidestepped him, coming for us, and Erik faced him.
“I’ve got this. Take the Fed away from here. Make sure you pin the hit in the tunnel on the cartel. Connect everything to them. Dump the Fed’s body in Peru, near the border where our team handled those other men,” Erik ordered as the other man from the front seat exited the helicopter.
The security asshole looked at me, then back at Erik, and something in his eyes made me even more uneasy. And that was saying a lot given our situation. “Brant gave me orders to never leave her side.” He held firm in his stance. “Chuck can handle the Fed and the coverup.” He twirled his finger and the other man—Chuck, apparently—hooked his arms under the Fed’s armpits and wordlessly did as instructed, starting to drag away the traitor. “I answer to Brant, not you,” he tacked on as if Erik might object.
What was going on? And could we somehow make a run for it while these two were distracted in some sort of pissing contest?
