Authors: Allie K. Adams
JT chewed on the inside of her lip. She counted a total of seventeen men leading her from wherever the hell she ran into Mercado to wherever in the hell they were now. Just how dangerous did this guy think she was? Seventeen men? Talk about overkill.
And successful in keeping her in line. She couldn't take out seventeen men, even on her best day. Now, if she had a weapon, that would even the odds a bit.
She stepped on something sharp for the umpteenth time. Why did she always end up barefoot? Her feet were already torn up from the events of the week. It hurt to walk, damn it. Crying out, more for show and to delay their arrival to their final destination, she fell to the ground. "Ow! My foot. I stepped on something."
Mercado glanced down at her feet, a look of disinterest on his face. "I see nothing wrong."
"I'm serious. I don't think I can walk."
"Get up, Miss Jessica. We have no time for your games."
"I can't," she insisted.
He held up his cane and, for a tense moment, JT thought he was going to beat her with it. He then yanked on the handle and pulled out a nice sharp dagger. "You will get up now."
JT swallowed. She'd only have one shot at this. If she could somehow get the shadows following Mercado to look the other way, she just might have a chance. Once she killed Mercado, they would be too stunned to move. She'd run faster than light itself and be far enough away by the time they started after her that she'd be scot-free.
Riiight
. Because she'd made running for her life a daily occurrence, according to Dan, and today was no different. It didn't matter that her feet were torn up, or that she could barely walk.
Calm and even, Turner
. She remembered Dan's coaching. Keep the voice calm and even, and they'll never see it coming. "Just take a look at it. You'll see I'm not joking. It really hurts. I think I might have sprained my ankle when I fell."
Mercado growled.
"Please, Santos?" She batted her eyes at him.
He slipped the dagger back into its holder. The way he studied her made her uneasy. More than usual. Was that a look of affection moving in those black, heartless eyes? He knelt down, gently took her foot into his hand. "You can not walk, you say?"
He studied her foot, turning it this way and that. JT could tell he didn't have a clue what to look for. She grasped the lapel of his collar and pulled him closer, nearly gagging from the strength of his cologne. Resting her lips against his neck, she whispered. "Oh! Be careful. It really hurts."
She forced a sob to escape and buried her face against him. This had better work. If she had to endure much more of this, she'd lose it and just slice the psycho's throat with his own dagger.
"
Mi amor
. Do not cry." He pulled her away and looked deep into her eyes. JT fought the want to curl her lip. "I will
always
take care of you. For you are mine now and the rest of your days."
That's what she was afraid of.
He stood and nodded toward some of the men behind her. "Take her back up to the house."
That wasn't her plan, but that worked, too.
He rested his eyes back down on JT. "You will remain in your room until my return. At that time, you will show me your gratitude for my many acts of kindness. And you will do so willingly."
"I will?"
"Miss Jessica, everything I have done, I have done for you. Many sacrifices I have made. Mr. Peck wanted you dead, but I would not allow it. I keep you now, knowing your heart has not warmed to me. I take care of Marcella so you would not feel unwelcome. I take care of my staff so you would not be ill from my food. My patience grows weary. Be ready for me when I return. In my room. In my bed. After everything I have done for you, it is the least you will do for me."
She blinked back the horrified realizations threatening to surface. Marcella was dead
because
of her? Add her blood to the blood of the cook and the weight made JT's chest tight. She couldn't allow Mercado's words to make a difference.
No. This man wasn't worth it. He didn't have the right to make her feel bad. She wasn't about to allow him to. As he reached up and cupped her face with his hand, JT tried to turn her head.
His fingers dug into her flesh as he forced her to look at him. His smile disappeared, and so did the slight affection in his eyes. "It is time for you to earn your place in my home. Or you will join Marcella. It is your choice."
He pushed her face as he let her go. "
Tómela. Cerciórese ella es bastante segura en mi cuarto. Párese a guardia hasta que vuelva."
"Sí, Sr. Mercado."
JT didn't struggle as two men lifted her to her feet. She pretended to wince as she stepped down on her left foot, realized it was the wrong one, and quickly switched before Mercado noticed.
He didn't even turn back as he walked the rest of the long hall and disappeared through the double doors at the end.
He took several of the men with him, leaving JT with the rest. She scanned her surroundings. Four on her left, five on her right, including the two carrying her. Looking down at the belt of the guy on her left, she spotted his pistol. As luck would have it, the guy on her right happened to be left-handed and wore his pistol on his side closest to her.
Perfect.
JT didn't waste any time. In an instant, she dropped her arms, crossed them, and had their pistols off their belts. The next instant, she gave them both a single-shot frontal lobotomy. She then turned and, one by one, carefully placed a single bullet in each of the others foreheads.
The shot came from behind her, and the pain as it sliced through the side of her ribcage caused her to drop one of the guns. She turned and shot, knowing she'd take him out with a single bullet judging by the angle of the one he sent ripping through her flesh.
Looking around at the massive heap of lifeless muscle now covering the hall, JT nodded. Not bad. If only Dan were here to see she really could save herself. He'd be impressed as well.
She sucked in a breath and pushed on her side where yet another bullet had dug a rather annoying small, yet very painful gash into her body. Not only had she made running for her life close to a daily occurrence, but also getting shot. How wonderful. It didn't look as deep as the one on her shoulder, and didn't bleed nearly as much.
Great. Both on the same side. The blood soaked into the side of her dress, making the wound look worse than it was. She ripped at one of the larger man's shirts and wrapped a piece around her ribcage as a makeshift bandage, then grabbed as many weapons and clips as she could carry.
Now to find Dan.
After setting his knee and clenching his teeth against the explosion of pain, he splinted it with parts of the chair he shattered over one of the guys' heads. Dan pulled himself to his feet. He couldn't put much weight on the leg, but it at least got him mobile again, albeit ungracefully.
The two men Peck ordered to stay with Dan now lay in the middle of the floor. One had a rather efficient broken neck, the other a nice and clean, single stab to the kidney. Silent and lethal. That's the way he liked it.
He grabbed the radio and clipped it to his belt. Eyeing the UZIs, he debated whether or not to take them. He decided the handguns were more practical and grabbed them instead. He had to stay as light on his feet as possible, and carrying around two automatics would get in his way.
How disappointing. Only sending two men to cover him? Dan shook his head. "You're getting really sloppy, Peck."
"From what I can see, he did a real bang up job on you."
Dan swung around toward the sound of her voice. JT stood there leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed in front of her. Her hair looked like Medusa had stuck a finger in a light socket. Her short black dress did nothing to cover all of the cuts and bruises on the rest of her body. And she'd lost her shoes. Again.
What was that on her shoulder? A bite mark? Her dressing had disappeared and he could see dried blood smeared all over her shoulder. He spotted another bite mark on her neck. That son-of-a-bitch had hurt her. He'd never be dead enough for that.
For the most part, she appeared unbroken. A gun in each hand and numerous clips poking out of whatever in the hell she had wrapped around her midsection, she was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.
He arched his brow as he gave her a once over, his gaze finally resting on the bloodstain as she attempted to hide it. Ah, he knew she couldn't go a day without getting hurt. "You don't look so hot, yourself. Stab wound this time?"
"Nope. Another bullet." She pushed off from the wall and started toward him. He could see by the look in her eye she wanted to run up to him, throw her arms around him, but she refrained.
Goddamn
her reserve. If Dan could have run, he would have. He was happy to see her. Ecstatic. How dare she be so calm.
"Again?"
" Thank God it only grazed me, pissing me off more than anything else. But, you know me," she replied casually. "It isn't a fulfilled day without me getting shot."
Yes, he did know her. And knowing that made his heart skip a few times. Damn how he wanted to touch her. But they had bigger things to deal with. He'd touch her later. And hold her. And love her. Until death do they part.
"Where's Mercado? Lying in a ditch somewhere, I hope?"
"Sorry, not yet. I did get nine of his men."
"Nine?" He nodded, impressed. He wasn't about to let on to that fact. "That's all? I took on at least a dozen."
"And look where it got you." She drew her attention to his leg. "Can you walk?"
"Yes," he hissed, taking a step and almost collapsing.
"I can tell," she retorted and hurried to his side before he did, indeed, collapse. Placing his arm around her shoulder, she held him up.
"What is taking—Ay! You are not dead!" A voice called out in surprise. Dan spun around and out of JT's arms, forcing her behind him. The man didn't look any different than the others Dan had already taken care of. The only difference—this guy was still breathing. A problem Dan would soon remedy.
And then the guy pulled a bigass gun.
Dan froze as his mind went through the different scenarios. He could stand and wait for the guy to shoot him, risking the bullet racing through him and right in to JT. He could attempt to hobble toward him and get shot in the process. He could distract the guy enough for JT to get a shot off, and probably be taken out himself.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. He couldn't barge in, guns blazing, to save the day. Not with a bum leg and restricted vision. Hell, he could barely stand under his own power.
He was the team's weakest link. The runt of the litter. And when you run in a pack, it is the weakest one who falls, allowing the others to escape. Or save the day.
He'd draw the man's fire away from JT. The man would focus on Dan, and give JT the window she needed. She'd have to complete the mission on her own. She would be the only one left. Hopefully the guy would be a poor shot and the wound wouldn't be fatal.
But it was a risk Dan had to take. If it proved fatal, he prayed he'd have enough time to tell JT goodbye. Just as long as she remained among the living.
The guy eyed Dan like he knew what he was thinking. Raising the gun, he set his sights on Dan's chest. "On your knees, American Pig. Beg for mercy."
"Yeah. Like that's going to happen," JT replied cynically. She then reached around Dan and fired a single shot. The guy fell to the ground like a sack of shit. A shot to the jugular will do that.
He never factored in that she could hit a gnat off the wall in a high wind, as Donovan so gracefully put it. "Nice shot."
"I was aiming for his forehead. Your arm was in the way."
He turned and almost fell on her as his leg gave out, sending a shock of agony through him. He quickly recovered as she caught him. Looking deep into her eyes, as best he could with only one eye, he regarded her somberly. "You could have missed."
"You could have moved." She arched a playful brow. "And I don't miss. I am the ultimate NASSD agent. Just like you."
Dan avoided her eyes, the impact of her words reminding him of what Peck had said. Gessler was dead because of him. And Charlie Cole. Johnson. All of them. They didn't deserve to die, not like that, not at all.
"We need to find Peck and stop him before he launches
"Right," she agreed. "So where are they?"
"Peck is a madman, but he isn't stupid. He knows the dangers, so he'll probably be somewhere they can contain
They exchanged looks. "Underground," they said in unison.
"Peck said something about having a train to catch. Does that make any sense to you?"
JT smiled. "I think so. The train and I are on very intimate terms, since it did try to run me over. Come on. I know my way back to the ladder."
"Ladder?" Dan looked at her, down at his useless leg, then back at her. "I can't."
"You can," she insisted and met his gaze with a look of determination. "For the short time I've known you, you've never been a man to say 'I can't'."
"That was before."
"You can't?" She thinned her lips and looked ready to double up her fist and deck him. "Or you won't?"
Dan thought about that. He wanted to, and the mind was willing, but the body unable. Still, he couldn't shift the burden onto JT. "Let's go."
"That's better," she said and started toward the door she appeared in. He followed as best he could. "For a second there I thought I'd have to carry you, you big baby."
Did she just call him a baby? And why, then, did he smile at that? "You wouldn't be able to. I outweigh you by at least fifty pounds."
She looked at him, a playful arch on her brow. "You'd be surprised how strong a person can be when they set their mind to it. We're partners. I'm not about to leave you. I need you. You don't always have to be the brave one, the strong one."
Yes, he did.
He thought about what Peck had said, wanting desperately to tell her, to talk to her, but knowing he couldn't. Besides, what good would it do? He shouldn't have let it get to him. But he did, and now he couldn't let it go.
As if the nightmares weren't bad enough already. He ground out a sigh.
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
"No," he replied, not wanting to know how she was able to pick up on his thoughts, and reaffirming his belief that women were mind readers.
"Sure you do. We have nothing but time while we chase down the bad guys. We agreed to no more secrets."
"You agreed to that. I didn't."
She turned and met his eyes. "So you do have secrets?"
Damn it. "How about we focus on stopping Peck?"
"And miss watching you squirm? Not in a million. Spill, Weber. At the pace you're walking—"
"At least I'm walking," he defended. "Do you think we're still at the compound?"
"Yes. Mercado told his men to take me back
up
to the house. NASSD could never find this place because it's underground. That's my guess."
"Good guess," Dan agreed. It made perfect sense. Pedro gave them exactly what they requested. Satellite imaging would never pick up schematics of Mercado's compound if it resided underground. Neither would the heat seekers. By the looks of the shiny silver floors, walls, and ceilings, the entire lab was encased in aluminum alloy. Undetectable by any of their surveillance equipment. Even if
Until it was too late.