No Place to Run

“We have a hostage situation,” he barked into his mic. “Sophie’s inside the building. Proceed with extreme caution.”

Marlene tried to sit up, but Donovan shoved her back down, his body covering hers. “Stay down, Ma.”

She looked up at Sam, torment crowding her tired eyes. “Sam, you have to get her out of there. She thinks she’s going to die.”

Sam closed his eyes.

“She told me to tell you she loves you and that she never lied to you,” his mom said in a tearful voice.

“Sweet mother of God,” Garrett said in a strained voice. “Son of a bitch!”

“What?” Sam demanded as his head swung in his brother’s direction.

Garrett held up the key. It was missing the leather tie, the one she’d held in the same hand with the grenade.

“She must have slipped it into my pocket when she nabbed the grenade.”

Sam’s gut tightened. He remembered well her determination that Tomas never get his hands on the key. How much more determined would she be to keep it from her father?

“Oh dear God,” he whispered. “He’ll kill her.”

Ethan picked himself up off the floorboard of the third-row seat and grabbed at his mom’s hand.

“Ethan,” she murmured in surprise. “What are you doing here? Where is Rachel?”

“She’s safe, Ma,” Ethan said gruffly. “Thank God you are too.”

Marlene looked anxiously back at Sam. “Are you going after her? You won’t just leave her there, will you?”

“Sam, I’ll radio for a helicopter. I can have your mom out of here in minutes,” Resnick said. “You go. I’ll stay here with her.”

“I want the rest of you to go with Mom,” Sam said. “This is my fight. Your job is to make damn sure Mom gets out of here alive.”

“Bullshit,” Marlene snapped.

Five pairs of eyes stared at her in surprise.

“Your brothers would never let you go back in alone. Your father raised you all better than that. You get back there and save my grandchild. You save that young woman who just traded her life for mine.”

“Don’t worry, Ma,” Donovan said. “We weren’t going to let the dumbass go anywhere without us.”

“We’re taking heavy fire,” Steele said in Sam’s ear.

The others turned to Sam, their worried gazes finding his.

“Let’s go,” Sam said. “I’m not letting this bastard take even one of my men’s lives, and I’m damn sure not letting that fool-headed female of mine get herself killed.”

SOPHIE wrenched herself free of her father’s grasp as soon as the doors closed. It felt like the stone being rolled over a tomb. Damn if she’d let fear paralyze her now though.

Her thumb was slick over the lever of the grenade. It would be so damn easy to let go. But she had no intention of dying, no matter what she may have said.

“Put the pin back in, Sophie,” her father said.

Tomas stood, hand outstretched with the pin, sweating profusely and shaking. Alex stared at her through the narrow slits of his eyes—cold eyes that betrayed no fear. Was the man made of stone or was he just that convinced that he was indestructible? For that matter, she’d shot him and yet he’d survived. Maybe he was invincible.

“I s-shot you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into an almost smile. “So you did. You impressed me. I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.”

Then his eyes changed, growing cold as anger flared in the depths.

“You put me in the hospital for months. I lay there seeing you pointing that gun at me, an arrogant little bitch who thought she’d won. You can’t kill me, Sophie. I can’t die.”

She lifted the grenade again when Alex moved in her direction. Her hand shook, but at the moment she didn’t care if she concealed her fear from her father. She was done with it. She was done with him.

“Stay away from me and my baby.”

“Give me the key and I’ll consider letting you live long enough to give birth to your brat.”

A burst of hysterical laughter escaped her. He didn’t realize yet that she didn’t have the key.

Tomas moved, and in that small lapse of attention as she glanced in his direction, Alex rushed her. He grabbed her wrist and twisted painfully until the grenade dropped from her hand to the floor.

The leather tie drifted downward, and both Tomas and Alex made a grab for the grenade. Alex reached it first, snatched it up and hurled it through the doorway and down the hall.

Sophie hit the floor, her arms covering her belly protectively.

The blast rocked the house, and plaster and wood rained down on her head. Recovering fast, she got to her hands and knees and crawled across the debris-covered floor.

A hand circled her ankle and yanked her back. She rolled defensively and came face-to-face with the furious eyes of her father.

Dust and bits of the ceiling plaster covered his hair, and he held up the leather tie with his free hand.

“You fucking bitch, where is the key?”

Self-preservation kicked in, and she struck at him with her other foot. Struggling wildly against his hold, she fought to gain purchase with her hands, pushing against the floor in an attempt to gain leverage.

Hope bloomed when she saw him drag his left leg in an effort to keep up with her. His pants leg was ripped from the knee down, and blood dripped onto the floor.

With another desperate kick, she managed to free her ankle, and she turned, scrambling over the floor toward the doorway on the other side. He was on her in two seconds, his body landing clumsily against hers. The sound of his breathing filled her ears as his hand curled into her hair. He yanked viciously, and when her head came up, he slapped her across the face.

Stunned, she hit the floor again, only to have him haul her up and drag her toward the opposing hallway. Tomas was down, pinned under part of the doorway that had fallen in the explosion.

Sophie fought back wildly. She wouldn’t die. Not now. And she damn sure wasn’t going to die at her father’s hands. She aimed a kick at his injured leg.

Cursing, he struck her again, this time with his fist. The cold metal of a gun brushed across her cheek before he lowered it and dug it painfully into her belly.

“Be still and cooperate or I’ll shoot you and leave you to bleed out like a gutted pig,” he hissed.

“Give it up,” she gasped out. “You can’t win. Sam and his men have you surrounded. You can’t possibly think you’ll make it out alive.”

“Watch me.”

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded as he dragged her through the house. The sounds of gunfire surrounded them, distant, but growing closer. What if Sam got killed? Or his brothers? What if they couldn’t get Marlene to safety?

God, there were so many what-ifs. Sam thought she’d betrayed him. Would he really put her above the safety of the people he cared most about? She wasn’t as sure as her father that he’d come for her, even if it was his child he was most interested in saving. In the face of her seeming betrayal, it didn’t seem a stretch that he wouldn’t even believe the baby was his.

Her father shoved her into the library and toward a wooden panel in the center of the room. The doors slid open, revealing an elevator. He forced her inside, then withdrew a key from his pocket and inserted it into the slot below the button for the floor.

The doors swooshed shut, immersing the interior in darkness. The floor lurched below her and they began their descent.

All the while, he held her arm in his bruising grip. Her face ached and her mouth had swelled and was split in the corner. The metallic taste of blood hovered on her tongue, but she was alive. She wouldn’t give up hope yet.

Please, Sam. Find me. Save our child. Save me.

I love you.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened to more darkness. Had they descended to hell?

Her father thrust her forward, and she clumsily stumbled along the hard floor. He’d slowed now, and he limped heavily, his body bobbing into hers.

She faked a stumble, then let out a cry of anguish. He fell into her, recovered and let out a hiss of pain. But she’d slowed him down.

Her brain short-circuited. She could only slow him down so much in hopes that Sam came for her. She babbled out the first thing that came to mind in a desperate bid to distract him, make him talk, all the clichéd things someone did when she was fighting for her life. What else was there left for her?

“How did you survive? I shot you. You should have died.”

Probably not the best thing to do. Remind him of the fact she’d shot him down like he’d shot her mother.

He remained silent, refusing to be drawn into conversation. His only response was to kick at her ankle to spur her movement. She went forward, pretending to fall. Her hand groped for the wall so she didn’t go down hard.

“You’re trying my patience,” he snarled. “Get moving or I’ll shoot you and leave you here.”

Like a flame to a dry fuse, fury caught fire and burned hot and wild through her veins. “Why don’t you then? You’re a coward who preys on women and those weaker than you. You shot my mother at the dinner table. What kind of sick fuck does that?”

He actually paused, his fingers still on her arm. She felt a betraying tremble surge through his body. The cold bastard had reacted? To the mention of her mother?

“You think I shot her for some random point?”

He chuckled, but it sounded more like a pissed-off hiss than amusement.

“Your mother was a whore with no loyalty. Just like you. She betrayed me just like you betrayed me.”

“What kind of shit have you been smoking? What could she possibly have done to deserve being shot in the head over dinner for God’s sake?”

“Shut up,” he barked. “Shut the hell up and keep walking.”

She opened her mouth to speak again, but he twisted her arm until she cried out in true pain. She fell silent and battled the waves of nausea coursing through her gut.

The tunnel led on forever, but her sense of time had been irrevocably altered by the chain of events leading to now.

She nearly tripped and went down when her foot clipped a divot in the floor. She registered the sound of a hand sliding over the wall and then light flooded her eyes. She blinked, not wanting to be weak and miss an opportunity—any opportunity—to fight, to escape. To live.

Her heart sank when she saw two Hummers parked a few feet away and the long tunnel leading out in front of them.

His hand still wrapped around her arm, he held up his gun with the other hand and pointed it square in her face.

“Get in.”

Oh God, she couldn’t get in that truck. She couldn’t allow him to take her.

A shot roared in her ears. Reflexively she jumped back just as her father hit the truck. His head smacked sickeningly against the passenger window, and for a moment he stood, eyes yawning. Then like a puppet whose strings had been let go of, he sagged and slid down the side of the truck. Blood smeared and streaked a path downward and then pooled beneath him when he finally collapsed to the ground.

She whirled, expecting to see Sam or one of his brothers standing behind her. She prepared to launch herself toward him, her heart pounding in relief. She stopped short, her feet tangling and catching when she saw Tomas standing a short distance away, gun still raised in the direction he’d shot.

Her stomach lurched and she fought the urge to throw up.

She stared numbly at him, not knowing what she was supposed to do.

“He deserved a more painful death,” Tomas said in a detached voice. “For what he did to Maria.”

Sophie shook her head. “Why do you care what he did to my mother?”

Tomas turned his gaze on her, and she shivered at the coldness she found there. All traces of fear had been wiped from his eyes. No tension, no nervousness. It was as if he’d been freed from the one man he feared above all else.

Wildness blazed and his expression turned triumphant, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

“He killed her because she loved me,” Tomas said. “He found out. I don’t know how he found out. Maybe one of the servants betrayed her. But it’s no coincidence that the day after she gave herself to me, he killed her.”

Sophie shook her head. The world was crazy. She’d sprung from insanity. Her entire gene pool was one big tainted mess. How could she have ever deceived herself into believing she could lead a normal life when she had lived her earlier life surrounded by crazy?

Completely and utterly overwhelmed, she sank to her knees and finally all the way down, until her butt hit her heels. She buried her face in her hands and rocked back and forth.

“Get up and get in the truck,” Tomas ground out.

Her head flew up and she stared at him in disbelief. “You’re crazy. You’re as crazy as my father. I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t have the key, Tomas. You go. They’ll come for you. They’ll be here any moment. If you want to survive, you better get out now.”