Maximum Risk (28 page)

At the edge she poked her head out. The two guards were talking on the corner of the deck, not really paying attention to the driveway. One smoked a cigarette.

Crouched low, Avery hurried to Chris’s car and snicked open the driver’s side door. Without a sound she slipped inside and closed the door. Lying across the seat she opened the glove compartment and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a gun on top of a folded road map.

God love the Wolff brothers for being prepared.

She took it out and checked the clip. Full. Scott had insisted she and Macy learn to shoot and take some self-defense classes before they began traveling abroad. Macy had jumped in with both feet, but Avery had been a bit less enthusiastic to learn to shoot a gun. Now, she was thankful she had learned.

Grief gripped her chest at the thought of her friends and she choked back a sob. Not the time to break down.

Lifting her head, she peered over the dashboard to see the men were patrolling the yard. Disheartened, she watched the one who had been smoking bend down and pick up her cell phone. He turned it over in his hand before calling out to the other guard.

Seconds later his gaze scanned the tree line, lips pressed together.

They knew someone else was there. And since they were here and not at Quinn’s there was a good chance they knew it was her.

What if they were torturing Quinn’s family for information? Hurting them to get to her?

Memories of what they had done to her assaulted her. It took every ounce of her control to remain seated until the guards moved around the opposite side of the house. The instant they disappeared from view, she snuck from the car and crossed the yard to the front door.

Carefully, she let herself in, leading with the gun.

The sound of a vehicle approaching made her freeze. Seconds later a car door closed. Voices came from the basement, followed by a muffled grunt.

She didn’t have time to go warn the newcomer before footsteps pounded on the basement steps. Finding the nearest door, she slipped through and found herself in the pantry.

A gunshot sounded from outside, making her jump. Her elbow bumped a can of green beans, rocking it. She blocked it with her body to keep it from falling off the shelf. What she didn’t stop was the box of pasta that tipped over when she bumped the shelf and toppled to the floor. It didn’t spill but it made enough noise to wake the dead.

The blood rushed past her ears as she reached for the door handle. The door jerked open and before she could get a shot off someone grabbed her by the throat and dragged her from the closet.

The gun was wrenched from her hand by one of the guards. The one with the scar.

“The boss will be happy to see you.”

“Then take me to him and leave the rest of my family alone.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. As much as she wanted it to be true, the Wolffs would never be her family.

“I think it’s too late for them.”

Panic spiraled through her. She lashed out, kicking him in the shin and driving her fingers into his eyes. He howled and reared back, his grip loosening on her neck. Taking advantage, she threw an elbow into his gut and he let go long enough for her to duck under his arm and run.

The barrels of two assault rifles stopped her dead in her tracks.

“You are a resourceful one, aren’t you?”

Ramil Diakameli.

Everything inside her went cold as he stalked closer to her. The blow to her jaw caught her completely off guard and slammed her into the wall. Stunned, she cupped her cheek and stared at Ramil, fighting the dots dancing in front of her eyes.

“Take her downstairs.”

His clipped voice indicated he wasn’t happy with his actions either. One of the guards grabbed her roughly by the arms and forced her down the steps to the basement. When she saw Frank and Chris on their knees, trussed and gagged, her stomach plummeted. Then her gaze landed on Ellen, next to her husband, head held high though fear shown in her eyes. Bailey wasn’t there, but she had spent the night.

And, at the end of the row, bleeding from a wound in his shoulder sat Quinn. Everything she’d said last night reflected in his eyes along with a healthy dose of focused rage. Not at her, but Ramil Diakameli. The man who dared harm Quinn’s family.

The guard pushed her into the room and shoved her to the ground. Her knees scraped on the cement floor. She didn’t ask about Bailey in case she had managed to escape or hide somewhere in the house. With luck, Quinn’s sister was on her way to the sheriff’s department right now.

On her knees, she faced the family she’d grown to love. She looked at their faces, saw nothing but concern. For her. And knew at that moment what she had to do.

“Give me your word you’ll let them go,” she said directly to Ramil. “And I will go willingly.”

Angry, muffled shouts from Chris. Ramil nodded to one of the guards, who stepped forward and slammed the butt of his weapon into Chris’s temple. Avery flinched when Chris grunted and slumped to the floor. God help her, she couldn’t let this family be hurt anymore by this monster.

“Stop!” she cried. “Please. Give me your word and I’m yours to do with as you please.”

Ramil stepped in front of her. “They mean that much to you?”

“Yes.”

His eyes narrowed. “I did not expect this loyalty from an American. Particularly a woman. What do you owe them?”

Her gaze bounced to Quinn, strengthening her resolve, then back to Ramil. “My life.”

A sob came from Ellen and Frank shook his head, but she didn’t look at them and held strong. This was the only way to save them.

“You are no hero and you do not deserve an honorable death,” Ramil said with vehemence.

Avery’s stomach plummeted. No, he couldn’t deny her.

He nodded to one of the guards, who grabbed her by the throat and forced her to her feet. The scent of apricots drifted past her nose, churning her stomach. “I will, however, take from them what you owe.”

The guard dragged her up the steps. Behind her she heard Quinn’s family protesting. But she didn’t fight. She upheld her end of the bargain.

At least until they were far away from the Wolff family.

****

Quinn inched the knife out of Chris’s boot and used it to cut the ties off his wrists. Then his ankles. When he finished he moved to his dad and cut his ties. He faced his mom. Her eyes filled with tears as he removed her gag. Rage coursed through him when he saw the bruise coloring her temple.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” He touched the bruise.

She shook her head. “You did nothing wrong. You couldn’t have known what they would do. But Avery is in danger and so is your sister.”

His gaze sharpened. “What do you mean?”

His dad answered. “They took your sister too. Before they brought us down they had one of the guards take her.”

Déjà vu hit him like a wrecking ball. No, this was different. This time they knew who’d taken Bailey.

Chris groaned again and pushed to a sitting position. He looked at Quinn, then the two deceased guards. “Missed all the fun, huh?”

“Christopher Wolff, that’s not funny.” Ellen shot him a disapproving look.

“Sorry, Mom. Someone untie me, please.” Although he asked nice, his words were strained.

As his dad moved to untie Chris, Quinn finished with his mom’s bonds. It only enraged him more seeing the red marks around her wrists and ankles.

When she was freed she cupped his cheeks. “Go get my girls and bring them home.”

My girls
. That was his mom. The most forgiving woman in the world. She had accepted Avery as one of her cubs. One of her kids, and the past had been laid to rest. Even if Avery couldn’t forgive herself.

He kissed her palm. “I will.”

“Bring them home, son,” his dad said.

Quinn met his dad’s eyes for a moment, knowing he would stand behind him no matter what Quinn had to do to get Avery and Bailey back. With a nod, he motioned for Chris to follow, left his mom to his dad’s ministrations and strode out to his truck. He called Evan for cleanup on the drive to his house. Kell waited for them. One look at Chris and the expression on Quinn’s face and he didn’t have to ask what had happened. Although his gaze lingered on Quinn for a moment longer.

Quinn masked his expression from his brother’s searching gaze and strode to the war room. “Tell me that tracking device is still in Avery’s boot,” he said to Chris.

“I’ll let that one go.” Chris dropped into the chair next to him, nudged him aside and began typing. Maps flashed across the monitors.

When a red dot illuminated, Quinn expelled a breath. “Let’s go.”

It only took them minutes to gear up and pile into Quinn’s truck. They were three against a small army, but no one pointed that out as Quinn followed the tracker in Avery’s boot. He rescued her twice; he’d do it again.

Chapter Twenty

Avery groaned, forcing her eyes open. Her shoulders ached where they had tied her hands behind her back too tightly. She tried to move her feet. Secured also. They weren’t taking any chances this time.

Cases of bottled water were stacked next to her head and a locked black box at her feet. Glancing toward the front, she saw two men. One driving, one passenger. Neither of them were Ramil Diakameli.

He had left Quinn’s family alone, as promised, and taken her. Ellen had been shaking her head, fear and concern in her eyes, as they dragged Avery up the stairs. She hadn’t dared meet Quinn’s eyes.

Her agreement to go willingly didn’t seem to matter. They had knocked her out before she reached the front door.

They van turned sharply around a curve. Something bumped into her from behind. A moan.

Avery’s eyes widened. Someone was in here with her.

Carefully, she rolled over, wincing when pain shot through her shoulder, and came face to face with Bailey.

The bastard hadn’t kept his word after all.

Bailey’s gray-green gaze met hers. She, too, was bound, and gagged.

No, no, no. She couldn’t let the IPA sell Bailey into slavery. That was the only explanation for why Ramil would have taken her. He told her how much profit he made on American women. And Bailey was gorgeous. She’d bring in a high price for sure.

Her stomach knotted. Now she would have the blood of two Wolff siblings on her hands.

****

Quinn slowed to a crawl as he maneuvered down a dirt road leading into a secluded private marina. They had been driving four hours straight and were now on the shores of Lake Huron.

“Diakameli’s escape route is a boat?” Chris tapped his fingers on the back of the seat, his pent-up energy needing an outlet. “Guess that makes sense since he has two hostages.”

He pulled over and parked beside a boat storage unit. “We need to run recon for civilians. Private or not, I don’t want any collateral damage.”

“I’m on it,” Kell said and slipped out the door without a sound.

Quinn watched him steal around the side of the building. He hated waiting and wanted to charge in and get Avery and his sister the hell out of there, but playing this smart was key. Diakameli was armed and dangerous. Any wrong move could jeopardize the lives of the two very important women.

The passenger door opened and Kell poked his head in. “Only two civilians. One taking money from Diakameli, probably for transport, and the other preparing the yacht.”

“Let’s go.”

Quinn climbed out of the truck and made his way around the building in pursuit of Avery and his sister.

They broke off in three directions to cover all areas of escape. Quinn crouched behind one of Diakameli’s vehicles. “I have eyes on the van. No sign of the girls or Diakameli.”

“I’m on the yacht,” Kell said. “Nothing here except troops.”

“I’ve got movement inside one of the units. East side. On the water. Sounds like Diakameli.”

“Wait for me, Chris. Don’t go in alone.”

“Too late, big brother.”

His earbud went silent and Quinn cursed. After a cursory glance to make sure it was clear, he darted between the cars and sprinted to the building Chris mentioned. Gunfire came from inside.

Wanting to strangle his brother, he burst through the door. They were supposed to go in silent, get the girls, and get the hell out without bloodshed. Win the battle, fight the war another day. With Avery’s and Bailey’s lives on the line they had no choice.

A fishing boat made for the Great Lakes blocked his view, so he followed the gunfire. Skirting the boat, he saw Avery and Bailey standing at gunpoint, hands tied behind them. The shooting had stopped and Chris now stood in front of Diakameli with a knife to his throat and a look Quinn had seen before. Most of Diakameli’s men littered the floor. Except for the two holding Avery and his sister.

“You think you will slit my throat and still save these women?” Diakameli mused. “You cannot do both.”

Damn it, Chris.

The odds weren’t in their favor. Not with two guards holding weapons to Avery and Bailey’s heads. If, by chance, he took the shot and eliminated one guard, in that split second before he got off another round, the guard could fire. Quinn wasn’t taking that risk.

By now the rest of Diakameli’s army was on their way and Kell was only one man. He could only do so much. Which was a hell of a lot.

As if reading his thoughts, gunfire sounded from outside.

What he could do was even the odds. He took a step in their direction just as Bailey doubled over. She caught the guard holding her by surprise, as expected, and when he lowered his weapon, she threw her head back and head-butted him, then followed with a vicious kick to the knee. The man went down like a ton of bricks, his knee blown out.

As he ran toward them he saw Avery hook a leg around her attacker’s shin and bring him down. He managed to catch himself, but not before she charged him. Quinn saw the bastard raise his weapon and raised his own, heard the discharge, felt his heart stutter as Avery bucked before plowing the man to the ground. They fell in a tangled heap of arms and legs.

He fell to Avery’s side, cut her hands free and hugged her to his chest. “God damn it, Avery,” he whispered, pushing a strand of hair off her cheek. Her face was pale, a bruise riding her jawline. “Why do you never follow orders?”