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She didn’t believe him and she forced herself to stay calm. “What kills you more, the fact that Gunner would rather work with me than you, or the fact that Gunner marked me first?”

That was the end of the conversation and the numbness, but only the beginning of the excruciating pain.

* * *

Gunner buried his face in his hands, knew what she was doing and why, but Landon was going to hurt her. The man had lost control . . . if it was truly Drew Landon, Gunner knew he was capable of carrying out his threats. He’d seen Landon torture people firsthand. A lesson he’d never forget.

“Find her, Jem.”

Jem nodded, his eyes never leaving the screen. Ten minutes later he had a lock on her location, but Gunner wouldn’t stop listening. He’d been deadly silent, fisting his hands so tightly they’d gone numb. Holding himself ruthlessly in check rather than risk losing the audio link, the only link they had to Avery now, was all he could do as Avery screamed in pain and terror. And then she went quiet, only whimpering occasionally.

He’d barely noticed that Jem had maneuvered him into the car, driven them back to the airport where the police presence was still heavy. He was still listening as Jem yanked him onto the private plane he’d called in that favor for.

They didn’t know how sophisticated this audio link was, didn’t know if they’d lose contact in the air, but they had little choice. “Tell him to go, Jem,” Gunner said, after one particularly brutal scream from Avery.

“Fuck,” Jem breathed, and then yelled, “we have to go now,” and the plane began hurtling toward the runway.

“Who’s the pilot?”

“Guy I used to work with. He’ll get us there.”

“Suppose he moves her?”

“We’ll fucking find her, Gun. That’s what we do.”

The audio never cut out. Gunner and Jem didn’t stop listening, even when things went silent on the other end. Silent, but not over.

“No more,” he heard Avery say softly. She sounded . . . so far away. As if she was fading away and fast.

“You and James both think you run the show. This should show both of you just where you are on the food chain.” Landon’s voice was clear as a bell, which meant Avery was seriously hurt.

“We’re landing!” the pilot yelled back. The cockpit door had remained open and Gunner knew they were going at a speed that wasn’t allowed on any airline or private plane. How he was managing to stay off the radar, Gunner had no clue, but he’d owe this man everything.

As the plane touched down, a hard landing, Gunner could barely hear. As things settled down and the flight came to a stop, Landon asked, “Do you think I should let her live, James?” and Gunner gripped the arms of his seat tightly.

“I’ll kill you, Landon,” he said, with no way of knowing if the man could hear him. He and Jem raced off the flight into a waiting car that Jem must’ve arranged with the pilot. Gunner took the wheel, pushing the car with the sport engine up to one hundred on the dusty road as Jem tracked the link.

“We’re close,” Jem said. “Another couple of miles, Gun. Hold steady.”

Jem already had his weapon drawn. His eyes held a life-or-death look that Gunner had only seen once before and it hadn’t ended well for the man who’d gone up against Jem.

Gunner pressed his lips together, not wanting to say anything that could make Landon do something stupid. But his suspicions were confirmed when Landon said, “I’m sure right about now, you’re threatening my life. Unfortunately, this audio only streams out. The thing is, James, I keep my promises but you didn’t keep yours. You didn’t stay away from Avery and her friends. You left me after I gave you a second chance. Now your friends will have to pay.”

“Signal’s split,” Jem said. “One’s moving away fast. One’s still.”

“We’ve got to check the one that’s not moving,” he said quietly.

“Then turn right up here. Up the hill.”

Gunner parked the car with a slam as close to the old porch as he could. It was a cabin, nestled in a quiet, lush parcel of land that belied any ugliness that had happened here. He used his foot to kick the door in, and Jem went ahead, weapon drawn, clearing room after empty room.

They got to the final bedroom. Gunner stood in the doorway and blinked. The only thing he saw was blood everywhere. And his flannel shirt shredded on the floor.

* * *

Avery didn’t know how much time had passed when she heard muffled voices. She pulled herself off the tile floor where she’d curled up, finally able to move. The pain was excruciating, but moving too much would make her lose more blood she couldn’t afford to lose.

She’d just prayed for Gunner to come get her. Now she couldn’t be sure who it was on the other side of the bathroom door and she grabbed the bloody knife she’d found on the floor of the bedroom after Landon left her. The knife he’d used on her—she had no choice but to take it and defend herself with it.

That sick fucking bastard.

She’d wrapped towels around herself to try to keep warm, and the blood had already seeped through. The adrenaline rushing through her was no doubt stopping the pain, but the dull ache between her legs was slowing her down more every minute.

She waited, crouched, as the doorknob turned. It seemed to take forever and then light flooded the small room and Jem was pointing a gun at her.

Jem. She sank to the floor as he came forward to her. She heard Gunner’s shouts, murmured, “Don’t let him see me like this,” to Jem, but it was too late. Gunner was there, his expression of horror quickly erased by one of calm concern.

He moved forward, picked her up and walked her out of the bathroom. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve got you. Don’t look,” he told her as they passed the bed and she buried her face into his chest as he walked them out into the cool air and slid them into a car. She remained curled in his lap as Jem covered them both with a heavy blanket and then she floated in and out of consciousness once the car started to move.

She was safe. She’d survived. She’d made it through.

She’d let the need for revenge carry her the rest of the way through, would let it burn through her body like a fire that would stop the pain.

“She needs a hospital,” Gunner said quietly at one point. “I can stitch her, but I don’t have all the supplies with me.”

“No. Too many questions,” she murmured.

“I’ll figure this out,” Jem told them. “Plane had to take back off—air traffic control reported him.”

The car sped up measurably and Gunner’s arms tightened around her. She didn’t know how long they drove, but at one point they’d stopped and Gunner was putting an IV in, applying pressure bandages where he saw blood and she was fighting him, telling him no. “I don’t want you to see this,” she told him, hated the hurt on his face. He didn’t understand. She couldn’t hurt him more.

And then they were back in the car, driving more. “Keep talking to me, baby. Just keep talking and everything will be okay.” He’d repeat that over and over until he believed it himself.

“Tell me . . .” she started.

“What, chère?” Gunner prompted. “Tell you what?”

She needed something to focus on, something beyond the terrible, horrible tragedy that was now filling the truck, making these men too close to anger and panic. She needed to bring them back.

If you find the strength, your men will pull it from you. Find it. In your darkest of times, it will get all of you through. She swore she could hear Adele’s voice telling her that, even though she’d never met the woman.

“How did you two first meet?” she asked, her voice slightly slurred. “Or is that classified, supersecret spy information?”