A choked cry left her, and one of her hands, which had been resting against my chest, covered her mouth as she gathered herself. Her voice was so soft, I could barely hear her next question. “Why are you acting like this is good-bye?”
Because it is.
Taking a step back, I pulled the rifle up and kept my eyes on her face as long as possible as I said, “Stay.”
“Freeze,” a low voice ordered, and I felt the muzzle of a gun press up against the back of my head. My hands released the rifle so it was hanging in front of my torso, and I raised my hands in the air. Counting down the seconds before I could go for my guns waiting in the shoulder holster, I looked at Rachel’s shock-frozen body and silently vowed to fight to keep her safe until I stopped breathing.
“No.” Rachel’s horrified whisper reached my ears at the same time I saw a large, tattooed arm wrap around her chest. “No!”
17
Kash
MASON AND I FINISHED ZIP-TYING numbers six and seven, and made sure they wouldn’t be waking up for some time before we silently made our way back down the stairs. After thirteen hours at the department, Mason and I had rushed back to the building and wasted no time in coming in to find Rachel. The bad feeling I’d had the night before had only increased, and with each member of Juarez’s gang we came upon, I knew I was getting closer and closer to my girl. Capturing the first seven members had been easier than expected. None had heard us approach them; they hadn’t even been expecting us. It was almost like they weren’t worried about anyone getting in the building . . . they were making sure someone didn’t get out. I knew who that someone was, and I was about to get her back. Putting my ear up against the door at the bottom of the stairs, I counted to ten, and when no sounds could be heard from the other side, I nodded my head at Mase. He opened the door and we hurried through with our guns drawn.
Making our way to the large, metal door where numbers six and seven had been stationed, we repeated the same process and opened the door. There was an old mattress pushed to the back wall. Other than that, it was empty.
We retreated out of the room and walked down the hall, clearing rooms and a kitchen. I heard a low snap and looked over to Mason. He was pointing down at the floor, and for the briefest of seconds, he flipped on the light that was mounted onto his firearm.
There was blood all over the floor. Mason and I had made this a completely silent mission so far, and we hadn’t shed blood of any of the guys we’d come across. The possibilities of whose blood that could be had me straining to keep calm. We moved out of the kitchen and continued down the hall, coming across more blood as we did. As soon as we found the second patch of stained concrete in the hall, we heard movement down the hall and froze.
Turning, I pointed down the hall, and we moved silently back toward the entrance. I slipped into the room with the mattress, and Mason motioned he was going closer to the door. Peeking out, I watched him enter the open doorway of one of the first rooms we’d come across. It was dark as hell underground, but not willing to let them even see a shadow, I withdrew back into the room and let the metal door shut enough without it latching.
Whoever was coming was staying as silent as we had, but the softest sound of shuffling went past the door, and I slowly opened the metal door enough to fit my body between it and the doorjamb. When the shuffling continued toward the entrance, I peeked around the corner and stopped breathing.
Rachel.
I could see her hair pulled back, and even in the dark, I’d know those bare legs anywhere. I’d spent countless hours in the dark worshipping and memorizing them, there was no way not to recognize them. The form of a large man was in front of her, and even though Mason and I had sworn to only knock the people out to keep them quiet, I knew if I got close to him, it would take an army to pull me off him.
Just as I started to slip into the hall, they stopped and he pulled her back a few steps. I moved just inside the doorjamb again, and waited for when they would pass me.
“Where are we going?” Rachel asked, sounding terrified. God, just hearing her voice was about to bring me to my knees. Over a month without her. Over a month of wondering if I would ever see her again. Over a month praying that I would hear that voice again. And now it was about to all be over.
“It’s too quiet”—a deep voice responded—“it’s not right. They have to be waiting outside that door.”
His men were outside that door, though they weren’t waiting. But I sure as shit was.
For a couple minutes, there was nothing. I held my breath as I waited for the signs of movement, and growled when I heard Rachel’s panicked, “What are you going to do?”
If he touched her, I would kill him. If he hurt her, I would do it slowly.
Not willing to give him the chance to do anything, I turned in to the hall and put one foot silently in front of the other as I got closer and closer to Rachel’s back. I barely caught sight of Mason creeping up behind the man when everything in me locked up.
What. The. Fuck.
I stared in disbelief, and agonizing horror as I watched my fiancée kiss him. I waited for her to fight him, or tell him to stop. Neither happened, and I couldn’t figure out if I was going to throw up, or kill him with my bare hands when they parted just a few seconds later.
Hushed whispers filled the hall, and I somehow found the strength to move toward Rachel when I caught sight of Mason creeping up behind the man again. Forcing myself to focus on Rachel instead of on the man I wanted to kill, I had to bite back a growl when I heard his deep command.
“Stay.”
He took a step back and Mason’s low voice filled the hall. “Freeze.”
Rachel froze and whispered, “No.”
I watched the man raise his hands and noted the rifle hanging from around his neck. But I knew if he reached for anything again, Mason wouldn’t let him get far. Knowing she would expect it to be one of the other members, I prepared for her to fight back, and holstered my gun before wrapping an arm around Rachel’s chest to pull her away with me.
“No!” she screamed and bucked against me, but I didn’t let go.
The man brought his arms to his waist and I retreated faster. “Mase, gun!”
“I said freeze, you son of a bitch!”
Rachel stopped fighting me, and I heard a loud inhale coming from her at the same time the man said, “Let her go.”
“Kash?” Rachel whispered.
My legs felt like they were going to give out when she said my name. “Yeah, Sour Patch,” I managed to say. “It’s me.”
“Kash!” she yelled, and turned to wrap her arms tightly around my neck.
Dying. It felt like I was dying for a different reason than I had over the last month. She’d just been kissing someone else. Pushing her back, I held her away at arm’s length and struggled to look at her. “Rachel, how many people are here?”
Her body shook with sobs and she blinked rapidly against the tears when she answered, “What?”
“How many people are in this building. We need to make sure we get them all before we get out of here.”
“Um, I don’t . . . Trent said there were thirteen—”
“Who’s Trent?”
She turned to look over at the man and Mason. “He’s—Mason, no!” she yelled when Mason hit him over the back of the head with the butt of his gun, his knee in the man’s back keeping him on the ground.
Pulling away from where I’d been holding her, she ran to where Mason was now zip-tying his hands together. I watched as she fell to her knees, pushed Mason away, cradled Trent’s head in her lap, and continued to run her hands over his head and shoulders as she apologized to him.