Page 55 of Free to Judge (Amaryllis Heritage #2)

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

The four of us slide out of the SUV as quietly as possible. Jon’s waiting—garbed in all black. His face is grim.

Keene snaps, “Status report.”

“Four total. Three Byrne enforcers, one Marshall psychopath.” His eyes hold mine. “The real question is whether you or Declan are going to take the kill shot on dear old Grandfather.”

Keene stills before hissing, “My father’s in there? Is Kalie hurt?”

Jon’s nod tenses every muscle in my body. I snap, “How bad?”

“Face and ribs for certain. I can’t tell much more from where I’ve been able to observe.”

The air is rent with curses from four different directions. McCullough hands me a semi-automatic weapon and a web vest that’s already kitted out with enough ammo to take down a small city block. “What’s the plan?”

“To get my fucking daughter out of there alive and to kill my father. Preferably fast. It’s not rocket science.” Keene’s on the razor’s edge of sanity right now.

Jon holds up a hand. Brave man. I never knew how much until he says, “Uncle Keene, Kalie wants him alive.”

Every muscle in my body tenses when he hisses, “What?”

“I recorded as much as I could.” With that, he plays back the last few minutes before he got the signal to meet us.

The last time I saw her, she was hoping Declan would rescue her too. And here you are—doing the same, I bet.

She didn’t survive you. I will. And when I do, I’ll enjoy testifying at your trial. Then, when I put you away, I’ll have another thing in common with my Aunt Cassidy. I’ll have survived you.

Oh, if only you’re alive to claim that win, lass.

“Then we give Kalie the choice—kill him or get Jack out alive,” I growl. “She delivers his justice.”

Keene turns on me like I’m fresh meat. “You’re insane.”

“No. I want to give your daughter the opportunity to regain her power. It’s the only way she will.”

Something like respect flickers in Keene’s eyes for barely a second. Then malice returns to the forefront. “Take out anyone in the way of Kalie. Then, we take care of Jack.”

I’m on board with that plan. I’m already planning my first moves once we get inside, ready to take out the enemy with razor-sharp movements. Use deadly force only if necessary. I slide on my tactical face mask and wait.

Keene gives the signal and we don’t speak. We don’t need to. All Hudson forward maneuvering agents are trained for this.

Don’t think. Just act.

In the lead, Keene takes down the first guard swiftly—silent as death.

It’s a smooth single motion with his elbow that crushes the man’s throat before he can even raise his gun.

The next two are farther down the alley, near the entrance to the warehouse.

McCullough and Clifton move like shadows, closing the distance without a sound.

They take down one, dropping him like he’s nothing.

McCullough’s brutal kick breaks the gunman’s grip.

Then Clifton kicks his throat before he can call out to the other.

Finally, Jon slides forward. He ruthlessly applies his steel knife across the throat of the final guard. I’m surprised his head is still attached when it’s done. Still, Jon doesn’t let him fall, giving Jack the advantage inside the warehouse.

Now, it’s my turn. I slide up to the warehouse—wary of any alarms or tripwires. Closing the distance without any sound, I’m focused on one man.

One enemy.

One last obstacle before Kalie is safe.

When I reach the warehouse entrance, I do a final perimeter check, just in case more reinforcements arrived while Jon was coordinating with us. Shit. There are two more guards near the door. Fortunately, they’re too distracted by one another, talking instead of keeping watch.

They deserve what they’re about to get.

The first guard never sees me.

I deliver a sharp jab to the neck. With that, he crumples to the ground, unconscious. The other guard raises his weapon, but I’m already lifting mine beneath his chin. I sneer as the smell of urine permeates the air, showing his cowardice.

Instead of killing him., I grab the man’s throat, cutting off his breath. His eyes widen in confusion before he tries to struggle. I keep the force up until his eyes roll back in his head and he slowly slides down the front of my body, utterly limp. I murmur, “Fuck, I hate when they pee on me.”

Keene approaches out of nowhere. “That’s the price you pay for shitting on my daughter. Now, let’s go get her.”

My heart thunders in my chest at the thought of Kalie being so close, but still in so much danger. Before I open the door, Keene lays his fingers across mine. “Whatever happens, I need you to know this wasn’t your fault. It’s Jack’s.”

Absolution. I don’t deserve it, but I still nod to let Keene know I heard him. “On three?”

He jerks up his chin. “One, two…”

I pull back the door, cringing at the small squeak. I try to wedge myself inside, but there’s not enough space to force myself through. Keene shoves me out of the way. “Let me try.” He tries to wedge his leaner build through, but no joy.

We both take a step back and search for an easier entrance. “The windows are easily a good fifty feet off the ground, and we don’t have the kind of equipment with us to repel down from the roof.”

“Fuck,” Keene curses. Then he holds up his hand. His whole body shudders.

I edge closer. “You hear her?”

“I hear him. He’s berating her for saying I’m strong enough to hurt him.” His eyes glow behind his mask. “I know he killed your partner, but now he’s hurt my sister and my daughter. I owe him.”

Just as I’m about to reply, the others join us. I nod at the two just beyond the entrance. “Both are still alive.”

Clifton murmurs, “On it.” Stepping away, he talks into his radio even as he trusses both of our hostages up like Thanksgiving turkeys.

“What are you two waiting for?” Jon asks.

“Door’s stuck,” I snarl.

McCullough then Jon put their hands on the rusted handle. Keene places his hands on either side of theirs. Finally mine go right next to Keene’s. We’re all ready to rip off the warehouse door. I plant my feet and call, “One, two…”

On three, we all pull back as hard as we can.

This time, the door creaks open. The hinges protest under our brutality. Jon and McCullough take guard while Keene and I make our way inside.

That’s when we hear a warbled, “Calvary’s coming.”

Then nothing at all.

The silence inside is palpable except for the scuffling sounds of our boots against the concrete floor. I creep forward, every sense on high alert, listening for any movement, any noise that would betray her location.

Finally, I step into the unprotected center and want to murder someone.

The cavernous room is empty except for two people and two chairs. I take little notice of the man standing. Instead, my focus is locked on Kalie. She’s still breathing, though even from a distance, I can tell it’s labored.

The urge to revoke my earlier statement about letting her exact her revenge surges through me when I see her strapped to a chair.

Jack standing over her, his cane raised over his head.

The sight nearly makes me snap, I’m not quite certain what the sound that emits from my throat is. But while I’m busy trying to control my inner animal, Keene lifts his Desert Eagle and fires.

The first .50 caliber round takes off his father’s lower arm, causing the cane to go flying away from Kalie’s limp body.

The second shoots off his father’s leg.

The moment he’s down, I race toward Kalie.

I take in the damage in one glance before shouting, “We need a medic!”

Keene’s patented smirk makes an appearance before he calls, “We need two if you want this one-legged arse to appear in court.”

At that, her lashes flutter. “You heard?”

I smooth her hair away from her battered and bruised face. “Jon did. He recorded most of what you said.”

She takes a breath and groans before coughing. “Hurts.”

Keene makes his way over to his daughter. “Baby, let me take care…”

“It’d be murder. Not like him.” With that, her energy fails her and her body slumps to the side.

Jack wheezes in agony.

I shout, “Keene, stuff something in him to keep him alive, but shut him the fuck up.”

His eyes glitter. “With pleasure. Give me your belt.”

I quickly undo my utility belt one handed before whipping it out as I let Kalie’s body rest on mine. I don’t want to lay her down on the cold floor, not without the paramedics there. Nor do I want to disrupt the crime scene so I can’t even release her from her restraints.

Instead, I bury my head into her neck and take stock as my tears soak her bare shoulder.

Her glorious ball gown is torn and stained with dirt and something darker. I run my hands up and down her ribs, noting when her breath catches. “I think her ribs are cracked.”

“Is she still conscious?” Keene demands as he yanks as hard as he can on the stub of Jack’s right arm. Jack’s slipping into unconsciousness until Keene slaps him to rejoin the party. “Hello, Dad.”

“K-Keene.” Terror and pain riddle Jack’s voice.

“After all these years, if you wanted my attention so bad, all you had to do was drop by the office on family day. Might have cost you a lot less.” Keene slips the other belt beneath Jack’s knee and yanks it as tight as he can.

Jack screams in agony before he passes out.

Just then, two teams of medics arrive, as well as the NYPD and the FBI. With the addition of the last, I’m in no way surprised to see Caleb and Holder bringing up the rear.

Keene immediately steps back when the medics reach Jack. After ordering, “Don’t lose sight of him.”

“I won’t, Keene. Swear it,” says Holder.

With that vow, Keene heads in my direction to crouch at my side as the medics document Kalie’s condition. The FBI and NYPD both document her wrist ties being clipped. “Jack had better be grateful she’s still breathing,” I snarl as her chest rises and falls with shallow breaths.

Jon and his father approach. Jon hands Holder his phone with the recorded evidence. Then he smooths a hand over his cousin’s head. “You made me proud, Kalie.”

For just a moment, after hearing Jon’s voice, Kalie’s eyes flutter. Then they dart in my direction.

I think she relaxes when she sees me, but for now, I need to believe there was a flicker of recognition and a sigh before she passed out from the pain.

“Let’s get them to the hospital. Stat,” I order.

Holder says, “We’ll follow you there. When they’re ready, we want to be first on scene to get statements.”

“The others?” Jon asks cooly.

“Already in the back of our shops,” the NYPD chief assures us. “This is fairly open and shut for us.”

If only it were that way for my relationship with Kalie.