Glitter and Gunfire (12 page)

“Give me cover, Gunner, and get backup out here—”

“Sydney’s already got it on the way.”

He kept a tight grip on Cassidy’s wrist. “Move with me. Every step.”

She nodded.

Then they were off, rushing back through the dark woods, heading for the safety of the SUV that waited near the street and—

“Cassidy!”

Cassidy froze.

“No! Keep going!” Cale ordered.

She tried to pull away from him. “That’s Genevieve!”

It was another trap. One designed to bring her into the darkness, the same way that Lancaster had been lured in. Only...

“There’s no exchange planned. He’s not going to let her go. He’ll take you both.” She had to see that.

Cassidy stared back at him. “But we knew that was the plan all along, didn’t we? That’s why you’re here. Why I’m here. Why I’ve got the tracker.”

His jaw ached.

“So let’s do this.” She yanked her hand away from him. “Just follow me. She’s
here.
”

And Cassidy could be tracked anywhere.

Then a hail of bullets broke the night.

No!
Cassidy could be tracked, but if a bullet took her out... More gunfire told him that this wasn’t about capturing Cassidy. Not about using her.

It was about killing her.

And Cassidy was running away from him. Running toward Genevieve’s fading scream.

“No!”

He had to go with her.

Cale lunged after Cassidy.

And that was the moment when the world exploded around him. They’d planned carefully, wearing bulletproof vests, putting Gunner up for surveillance... Even Mercer was staked out just a block away.

But they hadn’t counted on the bomb.

It lit the whole night.

The force from the blast lifted Cale up and tossed him back, away from Cassidy. He yelled her name, desperate, as he slammed back down into the earth.

But Cassidy didn’t answer him.

And as the flames flickered and spread, he shouted for her, again and again.

* * *

F
OUR
DEAD
BODIES
were recovered at the scene. Four men in black, men who’d been taken out by Cale and Gunner’s bullets.

Four bodies, but no sign of Genevieve or of Cassidy.

“You were supposed to protect her!” Mercer snarled, spittle flying from his mouth.

They were still at the scene. The heavy scents of ash and blood filled the air.

He’d expected Mercer’s fury. The same fury—and fear—were coiling dangerously within him.
Where is Cassidy?

“Get Sydney to activate her tracking device.” That was the plan, right? He glared at Mercer. “This was your idea. You were the one who wanted—”

To use your own daughter.

But I was the fool who agreed to the plan.
Because Cassidy had been so desperate to get her friend back.

Mercer glared at him. An ambulance’s swirling lights flashed. “You said you’d keep her with you every single minute.”

“Get the track going!”

He spun away from Mercer before he gave in to the urge to drive his fist right into the man’s face. When he turned, Cale saw Lancaster being loaded into the back of an ambulance.

“The track’s on.” Sydney’s quiet voice.
Sydney’s here?
He looked to the left and saw Gunner holding her within the protective circle of his arms.

“Cassidy is three miles over, heading east on Brookley.”

Hell,
yes.

“We’ve got a link on her and—” Sydney broke off, frowning at the small monitor gripped in her hand.

“Sydney?”

She looked up at him, frowning. “We lost the signal.”

“Then get it back!”

She started typing quickly on the keypad. She tapped her transmitter, talking with her team back at the EOD office.

A heavy cold began to spread through his gut. “Sydney?”

She shook her head. “Her tracking device went off-line.”

Fear was driving his rage, breaking his control. Cassidy never should have been there. He’d told her and Mercer the plan was crap. “Why? Why isn’t it working?”

Sydney licked her lips. Her gaze darted over his shoulder. To Mercer? “I don’t know.”

* * *

C
ASSIDY
SCREAMED
WHEN
the knife plunged into the curve of her shoulder. A man’s rough hands held her down, forcing her against the side of the van.

The van. The big, black van that had been waiting for her after the fire had erupted, separating her from Cale.

Cale!

“Let’s see them find you now,” the man muttered.

They’d taken out her tracking device. They’d known
exactly
where the device was located.
How?

“We know your secrets, Cassidy Sherridan,” the man told her as he ran the bloody tip of his blade over her cheek. “And soon we’ll know your father’s secrets, too.”

This wasn’t about the Executioner.
We were wrong.
Genevieve had been taken...Cassidy had been taken—because of Mercer. Not because of the killer in Rio.

The van bumped and jostled, and Cassidy remembered another night. Another time.

It had been a van back then, too. A big white van. A delivery van. It had been broken down in the middle of the road. Her mother had stopped to see if she could help the driver.

Then the men with guns had jumped from that van.

Her mother had screamed for Cassidy to stay in the car.

The car hadn’t been any protection.

“What will the big man do in order to get you back?”

Her mother had fought. She’d been so desperate to protect Cassidy.

She’d fought and she’d died.

“Where’s Genevieve?” Because she’d heard her friend’s screams. They had pulled her away from Cale. Genevieve had
been
there in that park.

“She didn’t survive the little rendezvous with you.” Mocking laughter from him. From the man that she still couldn’t see. “But don’t worry, your Genny did her job just fine. She brought us you.”

Genevieve was dead? It felt as if he’d just shoved that bloody knife right in her chest.

No, Genevieve should have been saved. It had been a rescue mission.

The van bumped again. Her blood soaked her shirt. Her shoulder throbbed. Burned.

“You’ll tell us everything,” the man ordered, his voice low and sinister. “Everything you know about your father...
and
your lover. We know Cale Lane is EOD. You’ll tell us about him, about them both.”

And she’d still die.

Her mother had fought.

I am my mother’s daughter.

They should have checked her for weapons. They’d made the same mistake that Cale had made before. Story of her life—always being underestimated.

Their foolish mistake. She hadn’t walked into that park unarmed.

She was sitting with her legs curled toward her body. This time she wasn’t packing a knife in her ankle holster. Her boots hid a small gun that was secured to her ankle. Her right hand slid down, and her fingers locked around the weapon. “Get away from me.”

He laughed.

“Let me go!”

“No. I’m going to make you scream.”

The way her mother had screamed?
Screamed for me to hide. Screamed and said, “Close your eyes,
ma petite.
Close your eyes!”

Only Cassidy hadn’t closed her eyes.

She didn’t close them now, either. She yanked up that gun, and she fired at him.

The bullet tore right through him and flew toward the front of the vehicle.

Cassidy’s captor stumbled back, roaring in pain and shock.

And another cry, pain-filled, just as shocked, came from the front of the vehicle. Then the van swerved, twisted—

Cassidy leaped to her feet. She shoved open the back door of the van. Wind whipped against her body. This was her chance. She was taking it.

The black pavement blurred beneath her eyes. It would hurt. But pain was better than dying.

She sucked in a sharp breath.

“No! Stop—”

Cassidy jumped onto the pavement. She hit hard, rolled and felt the flesh tear from her hands and arms.

The van slammed on the brakes, and the scent of burning rubber filled her nose. Cassidy knew that she had to get up, she had to run, so she staggered to her feet. She stepped forward—and fell again. Her ankle throbbed painfully.

Then she heard the sirens. The sweet, beautiful sirens that were getting closer, closer, and she lifted her head and just saw the flash of red lights coming toward her.

She tried to crawl toward those lights.

The van’s tires squealed as the vehicle rushed away.

Cassidy kept crawling toward those lights.

* * *

C
ALE
SHOVED
DOWN
the brake the instant that the patrol car’s headlights fell on Cassidy. He’d taken that damn vehicle, rushed over to Brookley, burning rubber, and he’d desperately searched the surrounding streets.

His palms were sweating, his heart racing.

And Cassidy—his Cassidy—was crawling in the middle of the road.

He threw open the door and rushed toward her. “Cassidy!”

He’d raced to another scene, on another street, so many years before. He’d found the bodies of his parents.

Seen his little sister...

She’d been alive.

So was Cassidy.

* * *

H
E
LIFTED
HER
into his arms. She was bleeding, trembling. He wanted to crush her to him, but he forced his hold to stay gentle. She needed care from him right then. Not raw desperation. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

“They...knew...”

He carried her back to the patrol car. His breath hissed from between his teeth when he saw the blood on her shirt. Too much blood. “Cassidy...”

“He cut...tracker...”

He grabbed for his phone. “I’ve got her.” What street was he on? “Debouy and Hutchins. She needs an ambulance!” And if that ambulance didn’t get there in the next few moments, he’d just rush her to the hospital himself.

Cassidy...bleeding out in his arms.
Nightmare.

That wouldn’t happen. He’d said that he would protect her.

“C-Cale?”

His body had curled over hers. He’d put his hand over her main wound, applying pressure to stop the blood flow as best he could.

When he’d been back at that park behind Dunlay, dark fear had controlled his thoughts.

Cassidy had left him. He hadn’t gotten to tell her goodbye. Just like with his parents.

His lips brushed her cheek. “Don’t leave me.”

Her hand rose. Her fingers—her skin had been scraped from her palms. What the hell had happened to her? But her fingers lightly touched his cheek. “I’m...not.” She even tried to smile then. Smiling? After what she’d been through?

His heart stopped for a moment.

Then beat even faster, harder, than it ever had before.

“It takes more than...this,” Cassidy whispered, “to stop me.”

And he knew that he was staring at one of the strongest women he’d ever met, and he’d sure come across more than his share of fierce protectors during his time in the military—and as a civilian.

Cassidy wasn’t weak. She was—

Everything.

He held her even tighter. “Tell me who did this to you.” He could hear the scream of the ambulance’s siren, coming closer and closer. “Tell me, sweetheart. I’ll find them.” Hunt them. Stop them.

Kill them.

No one hurts her and walks away.

Yeah, that violent side of his, that predatory side that others whispered about? That Mercer had flat out taunted him with? It was out.

He’d been trained to hunt and kill his enemies. The one who’d done this to her would pay.

Cale would make absolutely certain of that.

“I shot him,” she confessed in a whisper.

His eyes widened.

Good.

“I had...a gun...at my ankle. Got it before I—I left...the EOD.”

The ambulance rushed around the corner and came to a screeching halt. Two other vehicles were right behind it—a black SUV and a long, gray sedan.

The ambulance attendants ran toward them. Gunner and Mercer jumped out of the SUV.

“Never saw his face...”

“Cassidy!” Mercer was there, shoving
back
the ambulance attendants.

Cale growled at him. “Let them through! She’s hurt!” He had her blood on his hands.

“S-someone else was driving...the v-van...d-dark van...” Cassidy told him, voice roughening. “Two people...two...”

After the way things had gone down at the park, he’d realized they were dealing with a group, not just one attacker.

A sob burst from Cassidy. Mercer had moved back, finally, and he stood watching them, with his hands clenched into fists. “G-Genevieve...” Her name seemed torn from Cassidy. “She’s dead.”

Cale’s breath was cold in his lungs. He’d been afraid that she was.

The captors had gotten Cassidy, and once they had her—well, Genevieve was no longer an asset. She was another body to carry around—a liability.

Deadweight.

He helped the attendants load Cassidy onto the stretcher. She held tightly to his hand, her grip fierce and desperate.

His hold on her was even stronger.

Mercer stood to the side, watching, with shoulders slumped.

“She was my f-friend,” Cassidy whispered as tears tracked down her cheeks. “The only one I had, for so long.”

Her tears were ripping him apart. “You’re not alone, Cassidy. I won’t ever let you be alone.” No matter what he had to do. No matter what he had to sacrifice.

His life—everything—had changed for him.

“How bad is it?” Mercer asked quietly.

Bad enough. There was too much blood. Cassidy was too pale under the ambulance’s lights.

“Blood pressure’s too low,” one of the attendants said. “We need to get her to the E.R.”

“I’m going,” Cale said instantly. And he was. When that stretcher was loaded into the ambulance, he was right there.