Page 21 of My Masked Stalker (Beautiful Stalkers #1)
KILLIAN
“ Y ou need to give me something, brother,” I growl at Ethan. His eyes stay locked on the wall of screens in front of him, his fingers tapping away on the keyboard. It’s been four hours since I realized Emily is missing. Four hours since I last took a full breath.
“I’m doing everything, man,” Ethan mutters distractedly. “Facial recognition scans for Emily came up empty, so I’m checking for any known Black Ash associates within ten blocks of your apartment.”
Unsurprisingly, the two men who took Emily used masks to hide their faces.
Checking the feed and seeing them carry out her unconscious body nearly killed me.
I witnessed horrors beyond the average person’s imagination, but the sight of my Red helpless in the enemy’s grasp? Fuck, that topped them all.
“I’m trying to figure out who was in the area in the hours before we see them going out,” Ethan continues, his voice cutting through the miasma of rage in my head.
The fuckers who broke in used a signal jammer on their ingress, and neither Ethan nor I got an alert. But on the way out? They wanted to make sure I knew what happened. They wanted me to see that she didn’t leave on her own, that they have her.
“They’ll be contacting me soon,” I say quietly, my voice sounding dead even to my own ears. “The only question is whether body parts will be included in the calling card.”
If they touch a single hair on her head… How did I become so weak, so vulnerable?
“Pivot,” I order Ethan when I see nothing pop up on the programs he’s running simultaneously on multiple screens.
“Look for property connected to known shell corporations under Black Ash’s command.
Anything remote, inconspicuous.” I run my hand through my hair, pacing behind one of my best friends as he looks for the other half of my heart.
“Then check the local politicians in their pockets and their holdings. They’re not going to be far.
They’ll want me close enough to react. To make a hasty decision and get killed. ”
“Cross…” Ethan murmurs. “Don’t let them win.”
“I have no fucking intention of getting myself killed and leaving Emily defenseless,” I snarl. Then I close my eyes and let my head fall back. “Sorry, man.” I’ve been biting E’s head off all night when he’s working as hard as he can to find my girl.
“It’s all good, brother,” he says. “I get you.”
He doesn’t. Not really. I know he loves Damien and me as much as we love him, ties forged in blood and sand. But you don’t know fear like this until your heart is owned by a woman.
“Got something,” Ethan says, excitement bleeding into his voice.
“What?” I growl impatiently, already forgetting that I just apologized to him for my caveman behavior.
But then my burner phone rings. The one I use for contracts.
“E,” I call out, showing him the screen. He types it into one of his programs before the short, default ringtone sounds a third time.
“Scrambled number. There’s nothing.”
Gritting my teeth, I answer and put it on speaker.
“Cross,” I say curtly.
“Ah, Sergeant Cross,” a cultured voice with a faint accent says. Kovalenko? Is this my Black Ash target from the warehouse disaster? “I have something that might interest you.”
My fist clenches like I’m about to throw a punch through the phone.
“Where is she?” I ask, voice icy cold.
The Black Ash scumbag huffs out a laugh. “Straight to the point, I see. I can appreciate a military mind. Though I can’t fathom what challenge a young kindergarten teacher provides to a man like you. To each their own.”
I let out a growl ripped from my chest. “Don’t talk about her. Don’t even think about her.”
“Oh, I did more than just think about her, Cross,” the dead man replies.
I register Ethan’s arm on my wrist before I hear the creaking of the phone’s casing. His eyes plead with me to keep my calm. I inhale and exhale twice before opening my mouth.
“What do you want, Kovalenko?” I ask, hazarding a guess as to my caller’s identity.
He laughs, confirming my suspicion, or just knowing I’m holding on to a string. If they cased me as much as I case a target, they’ll know how deep my obsession with Emily lies.
“An exchange. Miss Emily for you. Then we’ll have a little conversation about your employers.”
I exchange glances with Ethan. Black Ash doesn’t know who hired us. Moreover, they don’t know that we have no definitive idea either.
“Done,” I snap. “Where and when?”
“Red Hook waterfront. One hour. Oh, and Cross?” Kovalenko makes a dramatic pause. “Come alone. Or she dies.”
With that, he hangs up, leaving me fuming with rage. I’ll wear their blood like a trophy of war.
“Kill?” Ethan’s voice brings me back to reality again. “I think I know where they are. We can probably get there before they leave.”
I nod, already dialing Damien’s number. “Gear up.” When the call connects, I spin around, heading to Ethan’s gear room. “D. I need you to be ready, man. She might be hurt.”
“You know I will be, Killian.” My other brother’s voice works its magic on me, like it always does. “We’ll get her back whole.”
Once we hang up, I pull stuff off shelves, adding them to what’s already on me: my Glock, my Ka-Bar, and my Ghoststrike.
I take a few mags, a spring punch, breaching charges, and some flashbangs.
We’ll need to break in and take advantage of the chaos.
I don’t know how many men Kovalenko has guarding Emily, but I guess we’ll be outnumbered three to one. Cakewalk.
Ethan and I are in the car, driving to Red Hook, well before the exchange time. The abandoned refinery E uncovered is on the eastern side, about two and a half clicks from the waterfront, and we’re on the approach when we notice a black SUV barreling toward us.
In the pre-dawn light, I see two men in the front seat, Kovalenko on the passenger side. Time slows as I turn my head when the SUV screams past, locking eyes with Emily through the tinted glass.
We’re silent for a split second before I explode, my hand slamming against the dash. “Fuck! Turn!”
Ethan spins his Audi RS7 around before I’m even done talking, the screech of tires deafening, the centrifugal motion pressing me against the door. Then he floors it, knocking me back against my seat, the turbo engines roaring as we spit forward like a missile.
“Get in front of them,” I order. “We’re doing the Kabul move.”
“Shit,” Ethan hisses. “You sure, man?”
“Just do it!” I growl, already getting ready to jump out.
Ethan overtakes the SUV, then hits the brakes while turning the wheel again, drifting around in front of them.
The SUV has no choice but to stop, or it’d crash into us.
I’m already halfway out of the Audi, though, climbing onto the roof.
I aim my Glock and shoot low on the driver’s side, my bullet putting a hole in the windshield and the man’s gut.
“Don’t dent my baby!” Ethan shouts, and I ignore him, turning and sliding down the front, using the momentum to slam into the SUV’s windshield feet-first. My boots hit the cracked glass with bone-jarring force, and the windshield caves as I crash through.
Emily’s scream of terror pierces through my body harder than any bullet ever did, but I lock it down, already aiming at the thug next to her, blowing out the back of his skull with a tap of the trigger.
Kovalenko’s next. I take a moment of pleasure at seeing his slack-jawed expression, the absolute disbelief painted on his face.
Then I pull my Ghoststrike from my belt sheath and ram it into the side of his neck before twisting.
Arterial blood sprays my face when I pull the knife back, and I relish in Viktor’s gurgles.
I promised myself I’d bathe in his blood, and I’m a man of my word.
The rear window shatters, drawing my attention. Ethan’s arm snakes through, yanking the door open to drag a stunned Emily into his arms while I pivot to finish off the driver, giving him the same end I gave Viktor.
Once I’m the only living thing left in the car, I crawl over the corpses and burst out, drawn to Emily like a homing beacon.
Three steps and I have her, burying my nose in her soft, honey-blonde hair.
She’s sobbing as she collapses against me, Kovalenko’s blood transferring from my tactical jacket to the hoodie she’s still wearing, until we’re both painted in red like a fucked-up baptism of violence.