Ride the Fire (23 page)

“He will. He’s been working toward a big finale, a horrible act that will put his name down in history, and this is it. One way or the other, his games are coming to an end. And I don’t want you here when he decides it’s showtime.”

She was silent for a long moment. “I’ll think about going to California, but I’m not making any promises. That’s the best I can do.”

“Knowing you’re safe would ease my mind, baby.” He knew when not to push Eve. If she said she’d consider going, she would.

It was tough getting comfortable on the drive home, and he wished he hadn’t suggested going all the way to Nashville for their movie. But he couldn’t regret the wonderful evening they’d had, until Jesse ruined it.

Christ, he was getting remarried. The idea was wonderful and scary. But he and Eve would make it work.

“Sean? We’re here.”

The road, the bounce of the Tahoe, must’ve lured him into a doze. He blinked to find they were in his driveway. “Sorry, I drifted off.”

“You need sleep. Let’s get you inside and in bed.”

“Sounds good.” No innuendo this time. He doubted he could get hard even if she stripped naked and straddled his face.

Well, okay, maybe then, but . . .

She prodded him upstairs and into the bathroom, made him strip to his boxer briefs and sit on the lid of the toilet. Wetting a cloth in warm water, she washed his cuts and bruises, her touch light. Gentle. It was so nice he almost fell asleep.

“You’re really hot,” she said, feeling his forehead. “Do you have any Tylenol or cold medicine in here?” Setting the cloth aside, she began to rummage in his bare bathroom cabinets.

“I’m not sure. I tossed almost all the medicine in the garbage when I came home from rehab, over-the-counter or not. I went overboard, I know. I don’t really want to take—”

“You need something or you’re going to be miserable! Don’t argue with me on this—just get in bed and rest.”

He wasn’t in any shape to argue even if he wanted. She marched him to the bed and tucked him under the covers, and he cooperated, docile as a lamb. He wanted to tell her not to expect him to take orders on a regular basis, but figured she knew.

He was dead to the world before her footsteps faded down the hallway.

Eve threw on her clothes, tiptoed out of the bedroom to the living room, and flopped onto the sofa. If Sean had any wine in the house, she’d pour herself a huge glass. Just as well he didn’t.

These were the times when a girl needed to talk to her mother. Problem was, she didn’t want to worry Mama with all the goings-on and she sure didn’t want to announce her engagement over the phone. If she called, Mama would employ her use of super radar and have her confessing every event of the past couple of days in nothing flat.

Crap. So calling Mama was out. In a few days, perhaps things would be more settled and she could at least sound normal on the phone. Might as well get going to the store and pick up some medicine for Sean. He really needed some cough medicine for his nasty cold, and they were out of Tylenol for the aches and pains from his fight with Jesse Rose. She’d like to cut off Rose’s balls and serve them to him over pasta.

Stuffing her phone into her purse, she fished out her keys and headed for the front door, glad Sean had given her a key to use, enabling her to come and go. She still needed to learn his alarm code, and that she didn’t know it yet made her nervous about leaving him here. But she’d be gone twenty or thirty minutes, tops.

On the porch, she turned to slide the key into the lock when a scraping noise made her start. Spinning, she peered to a spot at the edge of the porch where the light from the bulb overhead faded into the darkness. Another scrape. And a footstep.

In a panic, she shoved the front door open again, her only goal to get inside and lock it before—before what, she couldn’t think. She scrambled, panting, slammed it closed.

Pounding feet. Lots of them.

Oh, God.

And the heavy door immediately burst open, knocking her backward, to the floor. Her purse and keys skidded away and she looked up, eyes wide, as several men ran inside, dressed in fatigues. One reached for her and she screamed, the sound cut short as his fist connected with her jaw.

Her head spun, vision going white as the pain exploded in her face. When the room came back into focus, a couple of men had her pinned. And Rose’s smirking face hovered over hers.

“Where’s lover boy?”

She glared at him, torn between screaming to alert Sean and trying to convince Rose that Sean wasn’t here. The latter ploy she doubted would work.

“Fuck you, dirtbag,” she snarled. “Sean!
Sean!”

With a curse, Rose reached out, pinched a spot at the base of her neck.

And the world went dark.

But the pounding of boots coming closer was definitely no dream. Bolting upright in bed, he didn’t have time to move as the door slammed against the opposite wall and four men rushed in, dressed in fatigues, M16s over their shoulders.

“What the fuck—”

Four pairs of hands dragged him from the bed, wrestled him to the floor. At one time he’d been trained to take on several men alone, but those days were past. He put up a good fight, got in some licks, to no avail. His struggles ceased when Jesse walked in, expression smug.

“Now, that’s a shame, seeing such a good soldier come to this. Brought down in your underwear, no less.” Spying Sean’s jeans on the chest at the end of the bed, he grabbed them, tossed them onto his lap. “Put these on. We’re going for a ride.”

“You bastard,” he seethed. “Where’s Eve?”

“Taking a little nap at the moment. Don’t worry. You’ll be together soon.”

The way he said it, Sean didn’t doubt that meant in death.
God, please let her be okay. Get her away from this lunatic.

Pulling on the jeans, he refused to wince at the pain from his bruises. His enemy was getting far too much satisfaction from having the upper hand for him to show weakness. After he had the jeans on, he stood waiting, fists clenched.

“This, too.”

A T-shirt hit him in the chest, and he caught it, yanked it on.

“Let’s go.”

The four goons hauled him out of the house, into the night. On the way, he saw Eve’s purse and some of the contents scattered on the living room floor, and his gut clenched in fear. If he lost her, it didn’t matter what Jesse did to him. He’d rather be dead than go through that hell again.

Outside, he was dragged a fair distance down his driveway, as far as one could get from the house and still see it. Abruptly, he was pushed to his knees in the grass facing the house, and he thought for a dizzying moment that he was going to be shot execution-style in his own front yard.

He should have known Jesse wouldn’t settle for something that simple.

“Nice place you’ve got there, old friend,” Jesse called loudly. “But I think it’s time to renovate, don’t you?”

At the flick of his hand, one of the men stepped forward, a small device in his hand. And, before Sean could yell, pressed a button.

And his house exploded with an earth-shaking roar, engulfed in an orange ball of flame. He stared in disbelief as shrapnel rained down, pelting the trees.

His home, gone. Destroyed.

He looked up, locked gazes with Jesse, who sneered at him. “Before we’re done, you’ll burn, too.”

Snatching a rifle from one of his goons, Jesse flipped the butt toward the ground and slammed it into Sean’s skull.

He’d find out soon enough.

“I’m asking you to have my back. You owe me.”

“I owe you nothing. I know what I saw, and I did what I had to do.”

Jesse stared at him a long moment before his gaze slid away, suspicious moisture in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. “You said I could always count on you.”

Oh, God. “That was before I knew about the drugs, the weapons. Before you tried to murder one of our brothers in cold blood.” He backed away, toward the door. Had to run, far from this pain. “You made your bed, Jesse. I’m done.”

And then he did run, as though he could escape the agony rending his chest at Jesse’s hoarse declaration.

“No man stands against Jesse Rose. If it takes the rest of my life, that’s a lesson you’ll learn well.”

His arms and legs were frozen. No, that wasn’t right. He tried to move them and realized they were bound and his feet were submerged in frigid water. With his movements, he also became aware that there was someone next to him. Leaning against his body.

Cracking open one eye, he took in his surroundings. A halogen lamp hung on a concrete wall, throwing eerie shadows on his tubular prison. Tubular? What the hell.

A tunnel. A man-made one. Where the hell was he?

A groan brought his head around to look at his fellow prisoner. His pulse lurched. “Eve? Can you hear me?”

“Sean? What . . . ?”

She raised her head, gazed into his eyes. He’d never beheld a more welcome sight. A secret part of him was terrified she’d been in the house when Jesse blew it sky-high.

“Listen, baby. We’re in a tunnel of some sort. I’m going to—”

“Jesse got me when I tried to run back inside. I wasn’t fast enough. I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He wished he could hold and reassure her. “There’s nothing you could do. He was going to get inside one way or the other. The important thing is getting out of here.”

A metallic scraping noise from above echoed loudly through the tunnel. A manhole cover being moved aside? Footsteps descended down the rungs, legs coming into view. The body crowded past where he and Eve were bound to the metal ladder, and jumped into the knee-deep water with a splash. Jesse regarded them with a smirk.

“Good, I see you’re awake. I much prefer you to be fully aware of what’s going to happen to you and your lovely town.”

“And I suppose you can’t wait to tell me.”

“How’d you guess?” He waved a hand at the tunnel wall behind him. “See anything special? Look high.”

Sean squinted into the gloom. The light from the lamp didn’t quite reach the top, but now that he knew to look for something, he spotted what had Jesse so pleased with himself.

“You sick fucker.”

C-4, stuck to the walls. Wired to blow.

“Like my masterpiece?”

“Where the fuck are we?”

“In the drainage system underneath downtown Sugarland. These tunnels go for miles, did you know that?” He chuckled. “But I won’t need that much to turn the whole city into a smoking crater.”

“You’ll kill innocent people,” he hissed. “People who have done nothing to you. It’s me you want. So why don’t you take me somewhere away from here, settle this privately?” Beside him, Eve made a small sound of distress.

“But that would be too anticlimactic. This is pay-back, old friend. You have to die knowing that your betrayal of me came at a high price.” He stepped forward, his face in Sean’s. “And my enemies will be reminded that I’m a man of my word—anyone who stands against me will learn a valuable lesson. No matter how long it takes.”

With that, his fist slammed into Sean’s stomach, taking his breath away. He bent as far as his bonds would allow, gagging. When the waves subsided, he straightened and glared at Jesse, determined not to let him win.

“All I’ve learned is that the young man I loved like a brother never existed. He was a pale imitation of a man with character who threw a good life away for hatred and power. God, I pity you.”

Jesse snarled in outrage, delivering a few more punches to his stomach as Eve cried out desperately for him to stop. Sean’s knees sagged, pulling against his bonds, and his head hung forward. A fit of coughing made him sick, but he managed not to throw up. Barely.

Jesse stepped toward the ladder. “I’ll be back, and when I return, me and your pretty lady here are gonna have some fun before I send you both to hell.”

He climbed up the ladder and was gone. Sean couldn’t hear much over the roaring in his ears.

“Did—” He gasped in pain. “Did he replace the cover up there?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said, voice wavering.

“Okay. I’m going to work on these bonds and get us loose. Then I’ll tell you what to do.”

“Hurry.”

The ropes at his wrists were damned tight. He struggled, twisting, working them for what seemed forever. Loosening them, a millimeter at a time. His wrists burned, became slick with what he assumed was blood. But if he didn’t get these off, a few scars weren’t going to matter. Ignoring the pain, he pushed on, rubbing them raw.

Finally, one hand came free and he shouted in triumph. “I’m loose!”

“Good! Hurry!”

Quickly, he shook the other one free as well and bent to get his feet. Grimacing, he plunged his hands into the murky, smelly water and knew a round of antibiotics was in his near future—from his chest cold not to mention whatever bacteria lurked in the sewage.

Freed, he went to work on the ropes at Eve’s wrists. “Don’t worry, honey. Almost done.” Her whole body was shaking with cold and terror.

He got them loose and then worked on her feet. When that was done, he gave her a fierce hug and kiss. She clung to him for a few seconds, then pulled away.

“Let’s get the hell out of here!”

“You’re going without me. I need for you to call—”

“What? No!” Her eyes were huge in her face. “I can’t leave you down here!”

“Listen to me.” He took her hands. “I need for you to climb up the ladder and get help. Find a phone, call Nick Westfall, and tell him what’s happened. Tell him about the tunnels and to get here, fast.”

“But you have to come with me! That lunatic is coming back!”

“Yes, and if he finds us gone before the Feds arrive, he’ll blow the charges. I know him. I still remember enough of my military training to disarm them. They’re pretty simple.”

“Sean, please come with me,” she pleaded.

“Scoot, baby. I don’t have time to argue about this. I’ll see you soon, okay? At the police station. We’ll meet there. Go!”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Now go before he comes back.”

She turned and shimmied up the ladder. He didn’t rest easy until she called down, “All clear up here. We’re near the diner. I’m going there to use the phone.”

“Got it!”

Adrenaline rushing through his veins, he surveyed Jesse’s sinister handiwork affixed to the walls. Shit. He wasn’t nearly as confident about handling explosives as he’d been twenty years ago. Dealing in death hadn’t been in his job description in a very long time.

Now was perfect for a crash course.

He set to work, as quickly as he dared without unwittingly bringing about the end himself. While he dismantled the explosives, his mind focused to a laser point on how to turn the tables on Jesse.

And staring down at a wire in his hand, the solution became very clear.

Jesse Rose, along with his campaign of terror, was about to be history, as he should have been long ago.