Page 52 of Secrets Along the Shore (Beach Read Thrillers #1)

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Elara shivered as she paced the dark room that Viktor’s men had thrown her into.

His fortress was cold. He kept his home in Dubrovnik that way, too.

Everything about him was cold. His eyes, his heart.

She rubbed her hands over her arms. The trembling from her fear ceased.

Rian was safe. She’d heard Viktor shouting about not being able to find his son.

He wasn’t Viktor’s son in anything other than blood.

Rian needed a real father who’d love him and protect him.

Who would teach him to be a kind and strong man, not an abusive, ruthless one.

He’d get that from her dad. Koen had loved her.

She had known he did. He just wasn’t present, but how could he be while he was in the SAS?

He’d done what he thought was best. Just as she had done in coming back here.

Tyler should have stayed away. Viktor had threatened them and separated them as soon as they arrived at the fortress. He’d hinted at doing awful things to her rescuer. That meant that Tyler would have followed her and died for no reason. Viktor wouldn’t let her go again.

The door opened, allowing the hallway light to fill the room. She blinked to adjust her eyes to the sudden light. A dark silhouette entered the room. “I gave you everything.”

Elara stepped back as Viktor neared her. “No. The only thing you gave me was Rian.”

He laughed. “I kept you fed and warm.”

Yeah, right. She swallowed before she could speak those words and anger him more. “I wanted to be loved and cared for. You’ve always treated me like a prisoner.”

He laughed with amusement. “Maybe if you hadn’t tried to escape, I would have treated you differently.”

Tears blurred her vision. “I stayed with you for twelve years. I wanted some freedom, but I never tried to escape until you started trying to make Rian be like you.” She’d hoped that if she submitted to him, he’d become kinder. She was wrong. Terribly wrong.

“Where is my son?” he demanded.

“On his way to Australia.”

His palm smacked her cheek. She gasped and touched her burning face. Tears slipped free. She backed up a step.

“He is my son! And you sent him away from me?” His voice rose.

God, please, help me. She nodded once. “He needs to be safe. And he isn’t with you.”

Viktor latched onto her arm. “If I can not get that boy back, I will make sure you pay for this.” He dragged her out of the room and into the long, narrow hall.

She didn’t dare fight him. He’d only lash out at her more. She’d known that he’d be furious with her, but she didn’t need to anger him more. Maybe if she survived this, she’d find another way to return to Rian and Dad.

God, please, let there be a way.

She’d hardly gotten to tell her son goodbye before she’d run off. Behind her, Rian had cried for her. Probably just as terrified that she’d die as she felt at the moment.

Viktor led her into a room with a large screen that cast a blue hue over the man tied to a chair.

His head hung, blood on his face from where Viktor’s men had hit him several times.

With a groan, Tyler sat back in the chair.

His pain showed in his face. Viktor had removed his vest and weapons, leaving him exposed and vulnerable to the Rukas’ fists.

Tyler’s tired gaze drifted to Elara’s.

“I’m so sorry,” she mouthed.

Without responding, his attention slid to Viktor. The mobster shoved her into the corner of the room. Her bruised arm hit the wall, and she bit back a cry. She tucked herself in the corner. Maybe she’d be safer here.

Viktor stepped over to Tyler. The blood on his fists was evidence that he’d hit Tyler, too. “Now, maybe you’ll talk.”

Tyler held Viktor’s gaze but didn’t speak.

After about five seconds, Viktor threw a left cross, hitting Tyler in the eye. Her rescuer pulled away. A line of blood trickled from the cut in his eyebrow caused by Viktor’s ring. “Where is my son?”

“Long gone.” Tyler coughed.

“That’s bad news for you.”

Tyler struggled to breathe past the agony in his body.

Sharp pain shot through his broken ribs.

The vest might have saved his life, but it didn’t prevent injuries from getting hit by the SUV.

The ache in his head worsened with every blow Viktor and his guys dealt.

Blood from the fresh cut on his eyebrow dripped down the side of his face and almost into his eye.

Viktor paced a couple of steps in front of him.

With the Croatian’s gaze on the floor, Tyler worked at the ropes tying his hands behind the chair. His wrists were already raw from the constant rubbing, but the ropes had loosened. Another twist of his left wrist made the coarse texture tear at his skin again. He bit back a grunt at the pain.

The Croatian mobster faced him again, forcing him to stop. “Perhaps your people will want to make a trade for you.”

“I doubt it.” They had to complete the mission, which meant they had to rescue Elara. Not him. Koen wanted his daughter back. But Von wouldn’t trade the kid for Elara either, so they needed another way .

“You’re not close with Yvonne Khatri?”

Tyler’s muscles tensed, despite his effort to stop them. The Croatian knew of Von and her team. Not good. He might have their location too, and no doubt he’d retaliate. Von needed to get out before that happened, and forget about that house. Their lives were more important.

“I had my people check through records, and she doesn’t seem to have you on her payroll.”

No. Von didn’t. Koen was paying him. Looking back, that was a good decision not to get tied to the team. The mobster now didn’t have any intel on him.

“You just appeared out of nowhere. Like a ghost.” Viktor frowned. “No ID on you. Nothing to identify you. Even my woman won’t tell me your name.” He glared at Elara.

Elara hugged herself, avoiding Viktor’s dark eyes. She was smart. She knew not to identify him. When her gaze met Tyler’s, he gave her a nod.

Viktor faced Tyler. “Where did Yvonne take my son?”

“To Australia,” Elara whispered.

“No. She could not fly him there directly. Did she go back to Dubrovnik?” Viktor stepped toward Elara. He probably figured Tyler wouldn’t talk.

“I don’t know.”

Viktor slapped her.

“Hey!” Tyler couldn’t keep quiet and let her get hurt. He pulled at the ropes again. How was he supposed to get them out of here? They’d taken his weapons and beaten him up—with their fists and their vehicle.

The Croatian turned back to him. “You don’t want me to hurt her.”

Tyler clenched his jaw. He had to be careful what he said.

“You better talk then.” Viktor’s hand drifted to the Beretta holstered at his waist.

After taking a painful deep breath, Tyler said, “It’s over. You lost.”

Viktor sneered. “Ghost from Australia, I don’t lose.”

His finding out Tyler’s home country was the least of Tyler’s concerns. No one knew where he lived. Only Koen. “The boy is gone. I told them to take him and leave.” He braced himself for what Viktor might do. The Croatian had little patience.

In a split second, cold metal pressed into Tyler’s forehead. He didn’t flinch. The Croatian might have been a little trigger happy and any movement might force Elara to remain trapped with the mobster.

“You should have stayed in Australia, ghost.”

“Sir, I got a call through.”

To whom? Tyler didn’t move until Viktor lowered his pistol and turned to his man. Had Viktor called Von? Tyler grunted softly. The ropes still didn’t give enough for him to break free, but he kept working at them. They’d come off eventually.

“Put it on the monitor,” Viktor ordered.

His man did as he was told. Within a few seconds, Von’s face appeared on the screen. She sat somewhere dark. Something shifted behind her. The rumble of an engine filled the room. Was she in a car? She should have been on the plane by now.

“What do you want, Viktor?”

“To make an exchange.” He gestured to Elara. “Your client wants his daughter. I want my son. Let’s make sure we both get our children back.” He managed an almost convincing smile.

“No!” Elara cried.

“Quiet!” Viktor aimed his Beretta at her.

Tyler twisted his wrist again. The rope slipped a little. He was getting it. Slower than he needed to though. Viktor might hurt Elara to get what he wanted.

“No, please, don’t let them get my son,” she begged.

“I said quiet!”

Von shifted on the monitor. She glanced over her shoulder. Facing the camera again, she spoke. “It’s an interesting proposition, but I won’t be fulfilling my agreement with someone else if I hand over the kid.”

In the backseat, someone held up four fingers. Tyler frowned. Four? Four what? Four minutes? He sat up straighter. They were four minutes out. Which meant that he had four minutes to take Viktor and his man down.

“So you don’t want Elara? Fine.” His gun went off .

Elara screamed and collapsed to the floor, gripping her bloody leg. She sobbed as her fingers covered the injury above her knee. Her hands trembled, and she looked to Tyler for help.

Crap. Tyler had to move now. The rope slipped looser on his wrists again. He tried to pull them free, but it still wasn’t enough.

“Viktor, stop!” Von snapped.

“You give me that boy or I’ll kill her,” he warned. “I also might add that I know where you live. I know who works for you.”

Von hesitated. Her gaze flicked away from the camera to someone beside her.

“You have ten seconds to decide.” Viktor kept his weapon aimed at Elara. He’d shoot her again. Just like he’d promised. “Ten. Nine…”

Tyler yanked harder on the ropes. So close.

“Eight. Seven. Six.”

Elara sobbed harder. “God, please, save us.”

Tyler was out of options. Okay. God, if You’re there, help me save her. She had so much faith in God, just like Koen. Maybe praying would do some good. If not, they were both dead.

“Five. Four. Three.”

With the rope cutting deeper into his raw flesh, Tyler pulled his right wrist free. Then his left.

“Two—”

Tyler shoved to his feet and tackled Viktor to the floor, just as the pistol went off.

Elara screamed again and jerked out of the way.

Lying on his side at Viktor’s back, Tyler grabbed his gun hand and tried to pull the Beretta free.

An elbow nailed his broken ribs, making him lose his grip on the weapon.

The agony in his side made him struggle to focus, but he refused to let that stop him.

Viktor tried to get up. Tyler grabbed his shoulder and rolled him onto his back.

He caught the Beretta as Viktor tried to jam it into his face.

The Croatian spat at him.

Viktor’s man drew his handgun.

Crap. Tyler jerked Viktor’s pistol toward the Ruka standing in front of them. The movement made Viktor’s finger squeeze the trigger. That guy collapsed. Viktor’s fist punched Tyler in the face again, buying enough time to aim the weapon at Tyler again .

Struggling through the wave of pain, Tyler tried to force the Beretta away.

It went off again, putting a hole in the monitor.

The monitor flickered then blacked out. Another punch nailed Tyler’s ribs.

He gasped for breath. The feeling of his ribs scraping against each other made him grimace.

Viktor was stronger and not hurt. So he had the upper hand.

The pistol shifted to his face again. Tyler grabbed the top and shoved it down, angling it to the side. Viktor’s grip never wavered. It fired again. Keeping one hand on the weapon, Tyler threw a left cross into Viktor’s nose. Blood choked the mobster as it flooded his nose and mouth.

“Won’t win.” Viktor coughed.

Tyler pulled the Beretta toward him and twisted it out of the Croatian’s grip, breaking his trigger finger. He flipped his hold on it and held it on the man. Squeezed the trigger. Once. Twice. The man sagged against the floor.

Taking a heavy breath, he sat on the floor beside the Croatian.

He’d won. And the sound of gunfire outside the room said that Von had shown up with the team.

Red-hot pain seared through Tyler’s abdomen and chest. He grunted, then frowned at the blood on the lower half of Viktor’s shirt.

Tyler hadn’t shot him there. His hand drifted to his own abdomen. Warmth coated his hand. Crap.

“Tyler…” Elara whispered.

He glanced at her. Her hands covered her leg wound.

Her face was almost white. He slid over to her, careful not to aggravate his injuries any worse than he had to.

Another grunt escaped him as he reached for a shirt that Viktor had placed over a chair earlier.

He snatched it off and then lifted Elara’s leg to slide it under.

She cried out, her blood coated hands covering his as he wrapped it above the wound to cut off part of the blood flow.

He pulled it tighter. The effort it took to tie off the fabric was concerning. His vision blurred.

He leaned back, supporting his weight on his right arm while his left pressed against the wound in his abdomen. His breathing grew more labored. His ribs hurt worse. His vision faded in and out. Okay. He needed to lie down. Pressing his back to the floor, he used both hands to cover his injury .

Elara’s form faded from his vision. Was he dying?

The weakness in his body warned of a dark truth.

Not good. He didn’t know if Von and her team had won.

What if Viktor’s men showed up and shot them?

He had to keep his guard up. His eyelids refused to listen, and it was all he could do to stay conscious.

Heavy footsteps brought someone into the room. “Oh, man. Hey, Elara, are you alright?” A hand pressed hard against Tyler’s abdomen, making him groan.

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

“Alright, I got them. Both shot. They need a medic immediately.” Was that—that couldn’t have been Gage’s voice.

Tyler couldn’t open his eyes. He needed to get up. Needed to get out of here. But he’d lost control of his limbs. His blood soaked shirt stuck to his skin. He must have lost a lot.

Someone let out a sigh of relief. Von maybe? “Get Elara to the vehicles.” A softer hand replaced Gage’s over the bullet wound, but the pressure barely let up. “Go. Hurry!”

Elara cried out, then Gage hurried out of the room with her.

The sounds around Tyler were fading.

“Stay with me, Tyler. Help is almost here.”

“Okay. Let me,” someone else whispered. No. They wouldn’t be whispering.

“You did it, Tyler. You completed the mission.” That was the last thing he heard.