Page 33 of Brick (Chosen Few #5)

B rick’s knee bounced rapidly. His pulse pounded against his temples. A constricting ache in his chest warned him he needed to chill the fuck out and breathe, but that wasn’t going to happen. The sun had just fallen below the horizon, and the sky held only a hint of light.

“Almost there,” Taschen said. “Another mile or two.”

Brick’s phone beeped. A text from Zain. He opened it to see a picture of Bray with a huge toothy smile. In the background was an enormous red indoor slide. Underneath the picture was a message: Just about broke my fucking back on that slide. Hope you’re happy.

Brick warmed. Emotion rushed to his eyes, but he blinked away the moisture.

Bray appeared to be at ease and having fun with Zain and Ellie, but that could change in a heartbeat.

What he and Taschen discovered when they located Natalie’s device would forever change the trajectory of Bray’s life—for better or worse.

Taschen turned onto a gravel road. Tree branches scratched the sides of the SUV. The headlights illuminated their path through the woods. The sight of the maroon sedan made his pulse skitter against his skin. “There,” he cried, pointing.

“I see it.” Taschen accelerated, then stopped a few feet from the bumper of the car. “There’s a flashlight in the back.”

Brick reached into the back seat and pulled the slim device from Taschen’s bag. He jumped out, gun in hand, and stormed toward the car. His internal scope of knowing told him it was vacant, but he needed to fucking see.

He shined the light inside. Taschen did the same with another flashlight.

“Empty,” Taschen said, as he cracked open the driver’s-side door.

Brick went to the trunk. “Pop it.”

The lock disengaged. Brick swung open the lid. Nothing but musty air greeted him.

Fuck.

He rummaged inside, checking the internal pockets. Then he lifted the floor covering. There it was. Natalie’s phone. He scooped it up and felt farther away from her than ever.

Sadness split open his chest. Goddammit, he hadn’t expected to find her with the car. But Christ, he’d hoped Keetan had chickened out and left her behind.

Taschen clapped a hand on his shoulder and aimed his flashlight at a break in the trees. “I’m gonna bet they went this way. It’s the only clear path other than the road.”

Brick shoved Natalie’s phone in his back pocket. “Let’s move.”

They raked their way through the woods, moving swiftly and quietly. Animals skittered and creatures croaked, but no sounds alerted him that Natalie was close.

He searched the leaves and dirt for signs of struggle. Nothing. Just as he was beginning to feel they were heading in the wrong direction, Taschen stopped.

“Check this.” Taschen knelt and pointed out a mark in the dirt about the width of a shoe.

Brick touched the disturbed earth. It was damp. “It’s a fresh marking.”

“We’re on the right track. Let’s keep going.”

Brick stood and took the lead. A few minutes later, the gentle lapping of water reached his ears. He broke through a wall of branches and his feet hit sand.

Fear cinched his spine. He scanned the stretch of beach and the vast lake.

Taschen muttered a curse.

Brick walked toward the dock and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of footprints. He clenched his jaw and gripped his rifle. “He took her on a boat.” He lifted his chin to study the dark water, but it was impossible to see more than twenty feet ahead.

“Well, fuck.”

“We need a boat.” Even as he said the words, doubt spread through him, blotting out the hope of finding Natalie alive.

Taschen nodded. “The coast guard’s gotta be out here. Probably the local department. Gimme a minute.” He pulled out his phone.

Brick paced the shoreline. A small peninsula stuck out. From his position, it was impossible to see what was on the other side.

He ran to the strip of land and hopped over the grass. About fifty feet away was a private dock. Beside it, a boat bobbed on the water. He turned to Taschen and whistled, waving his flashlight.

“What’d you find?” Taschen said as he approached.

Brick nodded toward their new transportation. “I hope you know how to hot-wire a boat.”

***

“Sonofabitch!” Spit flew from between Keetan’s clenched teeth. Blood spilled down his face, splattering his shirt and the deck of the boat. He grabbed the weight and tried to rip it from Natalie’s grasp.

“No!” She held fast and shoved him backward. He nearly fell over the edge but caught himself.

Natalie lifted the weight high, then brought it down on Keetan again. He blocked the blow with his forearm.

Cursing, he dove for her waist. Her restrained arm lurched painfully as she hit the ground.

Wham!

His fist slammed into her face, rattling her jaw. Stars burst in front of her vision. His face loomed close, bloody and vicious. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Once again, adrenaline hit her veins. Using all her strength, she lifted the weight. He caught it midair, and her only weapon was wrenched from her hands. Keetan chucked it to the opposite side of the boat.

His breath came out in heavy gasps. His mouth hung open, and he gripped the side of his head. He lifted himself off her and slumped against the side of the boat.

Her chest rose and fell. Fear kept her frozen. Afraid to move. Afraid to breathe. To do anything that would draw his attention back to her. If she weren’t cuffed, she’d have jumped overboard and took her chances in the dark water.

Cold reality closed in. She’d lost. One shot at survival—and he was still standing. Well, barely. She watched Keetan pull off his shirt and press it to the wound on his head. He winced and closed his eyes. At least she’d done a number on him.

If she didn’t move soon, she’d have a dislocated shoulder. Summoning a silent breath, she eased herself off the ground. Her head pounded as she pressed her back against the seat she’d vacated moments ago.

Keetan lifted his head and looked at her. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t point the gun in his hand at her. But her awareness crackled. Any second, he’d fire a bullet through her chest.

Her gaze darted around the floor of the boat. There was nothing else to hit him with. He’d have to remove the handcuffs at some point, but he might kill her first.

She was fresh out of options.

Tears rushed to her eyes. She had one last chance to reason with this monster. He was too tired to fight. Probably battling a concussion. The only thing keeping him conscious was his hate for her.

“Keetan,” she said, her lip trembling. “Let’s go back. You need a hospital.”

“You don’t care about me. Never did.”

She closed her eyes. “That’s not true. I did, before you were so cruel. You think I left you just because? I left and ran to Fargo because I was terrified of you.”

“Terrified of what you did to Shelby,” he said, hurling the words at her feet.

“What we did. It’s in the past now. You’ve lost your job because of all this. Everything’s going to come out. You’re a corrupt cop and it’s going to bite you in the ass.”

His one visible eye narrowed into a slit. Something was making him hesitate to kill her. She had to cling to that, to find out what it was, so she could get home to Bray.

“Fuck you,” he said, but the words came out strained.

She winced as pain ricocheted through her jaw. She’d have another bruise from this asshole. “We don’t have much time,” she managed to say. “Don’t die like this. Let me help you.”

“Ha! If I happen to die before you, you’ll have another death on your hands besides Shelby’s. How do you think that’ll fucking look?”

The sound of a motorboat in the distance caught her attention. It could be someone on an evening ride. Fishing, maybe. Yet her foolish, stubborn heart prayed otherwise.

Keetan’s glassy stare held her in place. With a shaky hand, he aimed the gun at her. He groaned and closed his eyes, then blew out a frustrated breath. He was wilting. Quickly. And if she didn’t stand up and draw attention to whoever was approaching, they could sail on by.

She firmed her lips and inched closer. “You’re going to let me go now, Keetan.

” Her hand shaking, she reached toward the pocket of his pants.

“I’m going to take the keys,” she said slowly, carefully.

“Uncuff myself.” Her fingertips brushed the denim of his pocket. “And then I’m going to get you help.”

She dipped her fingers inside, and they brushed the small set of keys. Elation flourished inside her. Her chest spasmed with the need to get the other boat’s attention, but she needed the keys more. If Keetan had a change of heart and tried to shoot her, she didn’t want to be handcuffed.

She caught one of the keys between two fingers and pulled it out. Yes! She crawled closer to the railing, fit the key into the lock, and shook her hand loose.

Oh, god. She was free.

Keetan latched a hand around her wrist. “You’re not getting away from me. Not again.”

He yanked her to lie on top of him, securing her neck with his arm. The metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils, and warm, sticky dampness pressed into her cheek.

“We’re gonna stay really quiet and let that boat p-pass...” Although his voice faltered, his arm continued to bear down on her.

She pushed against him, anger fizzling in her core. If she didn’t do something—stupid or not—she’d die.

The other boat’s engine split the air, making their boat vibrate.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” He waved the gun loosely, the muzzle inches from her face. His fingers dug into the side of her neck.

She wanted to scream. But even if she could, her voice wouldn’t be heard over the motor. If it was an innocent bystander, would they keep going? Stop to see if someone was hurt?

The rumbling grew closer. Faster. Any second and the other boat would be upon them. Keetan must have sensed her urgency because he clung tighter and pressed the gun against her temple. “Quiet,” he growled.

No.

She’d been quiet too long because of him. Silenced and manipulated with fear for ten years. She’d lost too much. Not anymore.

She turned her face so that her mouth touched his abdomen. Opening wide, she bit down. Hard. And then locked on with the tenacity of a pit bull.

Keetan howled and kicked, but she didn’t loosen her grip. She bit harder.

He cursed, and the gun clattered to the deck. Yanking up her head, she grabbed the weapon with her free hand and ended up lying sideways across his legs. His palm slammed down on hers, pinning the weapon to the deck.

“Goddamn bitch!” He jerked back his elbow, catching her in the temple.

The boat rocked, tossing her to the ground on top of the gun. Keetan’s finger twitched on the trigger beneath her abdomen.

***

“You see that?” Brick asked. Standing on the bow, above the large headlight of the motorboat, he once again lifted the binoculars he’d found in the storage compartment.

About a hundred feet away, a boat swayed in the darkness. His heart beat in triple time as both hope and terror sliced through him.

The chances of finding an abandoned boat were slim to fucking none. The chances of finding Natalie alive were less.

“On it!” Taschen accelerated and veered northwest.

Brick yanked off the binoculars and tossed them to the ground, then lifted his AR-15. The cool, heavy metal usually offered a sense of peace, but this time it didn’t come.

He locked his knees as the useless joints buckled with crippling fear. If he found her body...

There’d be no coming back from the depths of that loss.

No lights shone from the boat. It just floated. Dead. His gaze searched the lake, pillaging the dark, lapping waves.

Crack!

The sharp blast of a bullet made him jump. His ears thrummed. Anticipation churned in his gut. Taschen cut the engine, and then his heavy footsteps pounded the deck behind Brick.

The headlight on their bow shone north, making it hard to see the inside of the other boat. Taschen clicked on a flashlight, and the yellow beam spilled into the watercraft.

A flurry of movement made Brick’s heart shoot to his throat. Two figures wrestled. There was blood. Blond hair.

Christ.

“Natalie!”