Unbreakable: A Section 8 Novel (A Section Eight Novel) (13 page)

“I hope you didn’t think you were well hidden at James’s house. Once he came back on the grid, finding properties associated with him wasn’t difficult. Of course, the tracker planted on his phone made things easy enough as well.”

“What do you want?”

“I want James, without the distraction of your group. You’ve gained quite the reputation after just one job. But really, you’re the biggest problem. Women always are.” His finger traced her lips, which she felt, then dipped lower. She glanced up at the mirror and saw his fingers were playing along her tattoo and she vowed not to look up again. Better not to know. “I think if I eliminate you—”

“He’ll kill you,” she tried.

“He might want to. But after Josie, you’d think he’d learn. But he didn’t. He’ll come back to me, the way he always does. I gave him a place to live, a purpose. You don’t forget that for a piece of ass.”

Something wasn’t adding up here, but she had too many competing thoughts to figure it out. Add to that the crushing weight of fear and she had to force herself to keep her breathing even, not to panic.

He leaned over her and added, “By the way, I left an audio link behind so James can hear everything that’s happening. So make sure you make some noise for him.”

Tears ran down her cheeks. She hated that she couldn’t wipe them away. The only thing she could do was spit directly into his face when he got close.

Her satisfaction at that was short-lived, when he pulled out a short but wicked-looking blade and tapped it against her breast.

She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. Stared into his eyes instead of watching the knife. “I will make you pay for this, Landon.”

“Sweetheart, you’re the one who’s already paying.”

She squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn’t look up by mistake. When she opened them because she’d heard him stop moving, he was staring down at her. And then he brought the knife back up into her line of vision.

It was bloody.

He was carving her up and she couldn’t feel a thing.

•   •   •

T
he farmers’ market was a fifteen-minute ride from his house. Gunner rolled the window down, turned the radio up and for the first time in months, he felt lighter.

There was still a lot of work to do, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and her name was Avery. And he couldn’t wait to get back to her.

Leaving her wasn’t his first choice, but she looked so damned comfortable, resting in the sauna. Besides, he knew he was Landon’s real target, would always be until he took the proper steps.

For the moment, he shoved those thoughts down hard, parked and went into the open-air market with his cap pulled down low but no glasses. He’d still manage to blend into the crowd from the majority of the people there.

But there were people he couldn’t hide from. And those same people would never be invisible to him either. It was a spook’s instinct, an eerie feeling, like looking across a crowd where everyone else except the dangerous ones were frozen.

It took ten minutes for him to gather the food he needed. It was on that ninth minute when he spotted the guy in the Mariners hat—and that guy spotted him at the same time. They made eye contact as if they were the only ones there.

Could be nothing, another spook recognizing his own kind, another spy who discovered a newcomer to his territory. But if it wasn’t . . .

He disappeared behind a large display, phone in front of him in case the guy came around the corner, and he dialed Avery. Got her voice mail.

Just because she doesn’t answer doesn’t mean anything’s wrong.
After they’d showered, she’d decided to stay in the steam room for a while. She was locked in a heavily alarmed house and she had a weapon.

He shoved the phone into his pocket and made a big deal about reading ingredients on a jar of honey. Bought it because glass always made a good weapon, if all else failed.

He turned and found Mariners Cap on his six. Still meant nothing. He’d follow a guy like him too.

He paid while keeping tabs on Mariners Cap. Still no return call from Avery. He hit
and got voice mail again as he headed to the parking lot.

He wasn’t going to lead the guy to the rental car or back to his house, although he’d considered that he’d been followed from there. He was having trouble shoving his panic about Avery down, because every second that passed made him more convinced that something was wrong. He walked through the main lot, past the families with the kids, strode with the guy still on his six toward the back lot.

On a weekday, it wouldn’t be full at all. And he kept walking through the mostly empty lot, filled with mostly employee vehicles.

In the farthest end of the lot, where a row of vehicles was blocking him from the road, Gunner turned. The guy had been following him, quietly, and now lunged the last several feet toward him.

Gunner reached out instinctively to grab him by the throat and put him down quickly, but stilled as he caught sight of the familiar face. The guy he had pinned had been involved in beating Gunner before dropping him in the bayou.

The car ride was oddly silent. Gunner had resisted getting into the car at all, but Landon wouldn’t hear otherwise. He’d been in the States via Mexico after the fuckup—the major fuckup that could’ve been avoided had he not gotten cocky. That would haunt him, and the fact that Landon kicked him out and off the team was worse. He’d really had nowhere to go, and no one.

He’d been reeling. And when they’d switched cars, he’d gone along for the ride, hoping he could convince one of them to talk to Landon for him. But when it drove away, with him in the back, it took him a few miles to realize they were men he’d never seen before.

When he tried to get out, they Tasered him. Beat the shit out of him when he couldn’t move until he’d passed out. He lost track of everything, figured they were going to kill him. When he woke to a wet nose on his cheek and a low howl, he thought he was about to be eaten by some kind of wolf. And he didn’t give a shit.

Now he pressed the man’s head against the nearest car hood, an arm on the back of his neck. “Who the fuck sent you?”

“Same guy who sent me the first time.”

“Guess you should’ve finished the job. Because this time, I’m go
ing to.” With the right pressure he knocked the guy out and cracked his neck as he fell to the ground. Gunner went through his pockets, took the phone and memorized the name on the ID, kicked the guy under the nearest truck and strolled back to his car.

A fucking forced stroll instead of the full-on run he’d wanted to do. As he walked, his phone rang and he grabbed for it without looking. “Avery?”

“Someone just tried to fucking kill me, Gunner.”

Jem. “Me too. I’m going home to Avery—can’t get in touch with her.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

J
em pulled into the driveway twenty minutes after he’d hung up. Gunner met him on the porch as Jem demanded, “What the fuck’s happening here?”

Jem was covered in dirt, and there were concrete pieces in his hair.

“Someone tried to kill you?”

“Suicide bomber,” Jem said grimly as he followed Gunner inside. “What do we know?”

“There’s a syringe on the back deck. Whoever took her left these two earpieces on the kitchen counter. They’re not turned on yet.”

“Fuck.”

“I shouldn’t have left her.”

“Come on, Gunner—get real. And whoever took her couldn’t have gotten far.”

“I was gone an hour. An hour could get her far. On a plane, out of the country.” Gunner swallowed his panic. “They left no tracks.”

“Listen, they want to be in contact with us,” Jem turned over the earpieces in his fingers, then popped one into his ear. “I’ll get in touch with Mike and Andy. And is there any doubt who took her?”

“None,” Gunner said grimly. “I can call him.”

“That might piss him off more. For Avery’s sake . . .”

That was the only reason he hadn’t called yet. He paced as Jem talked with Mike and Andy, forced himself to keep his phone in his goddamned pocket. Landon could be anywhere with her and his best course of action was to wait.

“What’s he doing to her, Jem?” he asked at one point.

“He’d better not do shit to her,” Jem muttered, and then he pointed to his earpiece. He turned on the tracking software and mouthed,
They’re bouncing the signal. It’s going to take a little time
.

Time Avery might not have. He held out his hand for the second earpiece and Jem shook his head. Paled.

“Gunner, we’ll get her back,” Jem was mouthing, pointing at the tracking software that was working furiously to pick up the location.

“Let me hear.”

“No.” Jem’s voice was hoarse. He looked like he was about to be sick.

“You have to let me be with her. Now, of all times.”

Jem cursed and handed him an earpiece. Gunner hesitated briefly, then slipped it on.

His ears flooded with Avery’s whimpers of pain.

“No,” he whispered, as if that could stop anything.

He heard sounds of grunting. Handcuffs. He tried to listen past it, to get any clues about where she’d been taken, but he couldn’t get past hearing Avery cry.

He heard, “Bitch,” muttered too low for him to tell if it was actually Landon or not.

“Fight, Avery,” he muttered. The fact that she wasn’t doing so could only mean one thing—she was drugged. Even tied, Avery would find a way to fight, scream, claw. Something.

Landon was determined to take everything away from him, to strip him down to nothing. To force him to be a machine.

He could never do that. Not after tonight.

He’d never forgive himself. Couldn’t see how she ever would either.

•   •   •

A
very needed him to stop cutting her. The fact that she couldn’t feel, couldn’t know if she was dying or not was freaking her out more than anything.

“He talks about you, Drew. He understands you,” Avery told Landon, trying to appeal to the man Gunner talked about, the one who’d saved Gunner from Powell. The one who’d been more of a father than Powell had been.

Of course, that wasn’t saying much. But the Landon in front of her was a monster that maybe Gunner never saw, never wanted to acknowledge.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Avery. James doesn’t know me, and you don’t know him.” His eyes were so dark and angry, the fury palpable even though his expression was outwardly calm. She tried to remain equally calm, but her fear bled through. And that was what he wanted.

She was a fighter and he’d taken that away from her physically. But inside, she was still strong.

Break them before they break you.
She could hear Gunner’s mom saying that to him.

“Yolanda, help me,” she said out loud.

“I don’t know who that is, but she can’t help you.”

I don’t know who that is.
How could he not know Gunner’s mom’s name?

“You’re taking Gunner away from jobs he does best, Avery. He saves helpless women and children. Don’t you think that’s important?”

“He doesn’t need you to help people.”

Landon smiled, a cunning, chilling look. “You can’t really believe that.”

There was more blood every time Landon put the knife in her face. She whimpered because her body was cold now, numb and cold, and she was running out of time.

“Did your perfect James tell you what he did for me? What a good worker bee he was?”

“He was trying to save his wife. He was trying to survive.” God, her voice was clearer now, which meant the drugs were wearing off. Soon, she might feel everything.

She didn’t know how much worse that could be.

Landon smiled, that wicked, horrible smile that told her he was getting so much enjoyment out of this. “He’ll do anything to survive.”

“So would most people. But Gunner would never sell out the people he loves.”

“No, he’ll just kill children to protect them.”

She blinked, wanted to call him a liar, but she knew that it was true, and that’s why Gunner couldn’t talk about it. “I’m sure that whatever he did, it’s because you tricked him into doing it.”

“I never had to trick him into doing what he was built for.”

“You can’t know him nearly as well as you think you do.”

“He spent time in my life. My bed. I knew him intimately.”

“And now I do. And I’m the one he wants.” She drove that dagger in deep, smiling as she did so.

“He’ll always come back to me. He always has.”

“Not this time. Never again.”

“You think James is yours?” Landon sneered.

“I think Gunner is his own man. I’ll be damned if I let you force him to do your dirty work.”

“Force him?” Landon bit out a laugh. “No one forces James to do anything. This job’s in his blood. He’s a legacy.”

“I know all about legacies,” she spat. “You have no idea what my pedigree is.” She forced herself to calm down. “I want you to know that the next time you see me in person, you won’t breathe longer than ten minutes.”

“Threats, Avery.”

“It’s a goddamned promise.” She’d been in that place before. She’d sought vengeance for her mother, killed the men who’d killed her, and she’d discovered it hadn’t made things better at all.

In fact, it made them somehow worse. But this time, it would be different. She couldn’t save her mother, but she’d be damned if she couldn’t save Gunner.

But first, she’d have to save herself and survive this. She closed her eyes for a long moment, willing the courage she’d always had to come thrumming back through her body. She noted she was shivering. And her body was aching.

Oh God, it was wearing off. And he wasn’t done cutting her.

“Is this the only way you can get it up, by killing the women Gunner loves?” she spat out.

Instead of answering with words, Landon held up the knife and pressed it to her skin.

She tried not to scream and failed.

“Playtime’s over, little girl. You have no idea who you’re up against. But don’t you worry, I’ve got plenty of time to show you.”

“No matter how long you take, you’ll never show me.” She didn’t care about making him angrier. She’d take her power any way she could, would hang on by her nails, leaving deep claw marks.

Her hands moved as she thought about that. They moved—only slightly, but the tingle meant that the drug was metabolizing.

It wouldn’t be fast enough. Because he was still cutting her, and she would wear those scars forever.

“Remember this. Every time you’re with James, he’s going to see these and think of me. And so are you. If you’d stayed apart . . .”

“If you’d done a better job of trying to kill me,” she taunted. She wanted to pass out, but she couldn’t. Adrenaline coursed through her body, made the pain bearable. Made her somehow unable to look away.

The blood welled from the deep cuts. She knew where he was going . . . her beautiful flowers.

She wouldn’t beg, not even when Drew said, “If you ask nicely, I’ll leave this alone.”

She didn’t believe him and she forced herself to stay calm. “What kills you more, the fact that Gunner would rather work with me than you, or the fact that Gunner marked me first?”

That was the end of the conversation and the numbness, but only the beginning of the excruciating pain.

•   •   •

G
unner buried his face in his hands, knew what she was doing and why, but Landon was going to hurt her. The man had lost control . . . if it was truly Drew Landon, Gunner knew he was capable of carrying out his threats. He’d seen Landon torture people firsthand. A lesson he’d never forget.

“Find her, Jem.”

Jem nodded, his eyes never leaving the screen. Ten minutes later he had a lock on her location, but Gunner wouldn’t stop listening. He’d been deadly silent, fisting his hands so tightly they’d gone numb. Holding himself ruthlessly in check rather than risk losing the audio link, the only link they had to Avery now, was all he could do as Avery screamed in pain and terror. And then she went quiet, only whimpering occasionally.

He’d barely noticed that Jem had maneuvered him into the car, driven them back to the airport where the police presence was still heavy. He was still listening as Jem yanked him onto the private plane he’d called in that favor for.

They didn’t know how sophisticated this audio link was, didn’t know if they’d lose contact in the air, but they had little choice. “Tell him to go, Jem,” Gunner said, after one particularly brutal scream from Avery.

“Fuck,” Jem breathed, and then yelled, “we have to go now,” and the plane began hurtling toward the runway.

“Who’s the pilot?”

“Guy I used to work with. He’ll get us there.”

“Suppose he moves her?”

“We’ll fucking find her, Gun. That’s what we do.”

The audio never cut out. Gunner and Jem didn’t stop listening, even when things went silent on the other end. Silent, but not over.

“No more,” he heard Avery say softly. She sounded . . . so far away. As if she was fading away and fast.

“You and James both think you run the show. This should show both of you just where you are on the food chain.” Landon’s voice was clear as a bell, which meant Avery was seriously hurt.

“We’re landing!” the pilot yelled back. The cockpit door had remained open and Gunner knew they were going at a speed that wasn’t allowed on any airline or private plane. How he was managing to stay off the radar, Gunner had no clue, but he’d owe this man everything.

As the plane touched down, a hard landing, Gunner could barely hear. As things settled down and the flight came to a stop, Landon asked, “Do you think I should let her live, James?” and Gunner gripped the arms of his seat tightly.

“I’ll kill you, Landon,” he said, with no way of knowing if the man could hear him. He and Jem raced off the flight into a waiting car that Jem must’ve arranged with the pilot. Gunner took the wheel, pushing the car with the sport engine up to one hundred on the dusty road as Jem tracked the link.

“We’re close,” Jem said. “Another couple of miles, Gun. Hold steady.”

Jem already had his weapon drawn. His eyes held a life-or-death look that Gunner had only seen once before and it hadn’t ended well for the man who’d gone up against Jem.

Gunner pressed his lips together, not wanting to say anything that could make Landon do something stupid. But his suspicions were confirmed when Landon said, “I’m sure right about now, you’re threatening my life. Unfortunately, this audio only streams out. The thing is, James, I keep my promises but you didn’t keep yours. You didn’t stay away from Avery and her friends. You left me after I gave you a second chance. Now your friends will have to pay.”

“Signal’s split,” Jem said. “One’s moving away fast. One’s still.”

“We’ve got to check the one that’s not moving,” he said quietly.

“Then turn right up here. Up the hill.”

Gunner parked the car with a slam as close to the old porch as he could. It was a cabin, nestled in a quiet, lush parcel of land that belied any ugliness that had happened here. He used his foot to kick the door in, and Jem went ahead, weapon drawn, clearing room after empty room.

They got to the final bedroom. Gunner stood in the doorway and blinked. The only thing he saw was blood everywhere. And his flannel shirt shredded on the floor.

•   •   •

A
very didn’t know how much time had passed when she heard muffled voices. She pulled herself off the tile floor where she’d curled up, finally able to move. The pain was excruciating, but moving too much would make her lose more blood she couldn’t afford to lose.

She’d just prayed for Gunner to come get her. Now she couldn’t be sure who it was on the other side of the bathroom door and she grabbed the bloody knife she’d found on the floor of the bedroom after Landon left her. The knife he’d used on her—she had no choice but to take it and defend herself with it.

That sick fucking bastard.

She’d wrapped towels around herself to try to keep warm, and the blood had already seeped through. The adrenaline rushing through her was no doubt stopping the pain, but the dull ache between her legs was slowing her down more every minute.

She waited, crouched, as the doorknob turned. It seemed to take forever and then light flooded the small room and Jem was pointing a gun at her.

Jem. She sank to the floor as he came forward to her. She heard Gunner’s shouts, murmured, “Don’t let him see me like this,” to Jem, but it was too late. Gunner was there, his expression of horror quickly erased by one of calm concern.

He moved forward, picked her up and walked her out of the bathroom. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve got you. Don’t look,” he told her as they passed the bed and she buried her face into his chest as he walked them out into the cool air and slid them into a car. She remained curled in his lap as Jem covered them both with a heavy blanket and then she floated in and out of consciousness once the car started to move.

She was safe. She’d survived. She’d made it through.

She’d let the need for revenge carry her the rest of the way through, would let it burn through her body like a fire that would stop the pain.