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23

JOANNA

Sewell smiled. “How sweet. He cares. Let’s aim for something more important next.”

My mind blacked out for a millisecond as he ripped the knife out of my shoulder. He scanned me from head to toe, as if deciding what part of a prime cut of meat he wanted for himself.

“Or, we could go old-fashioned,” he mused to Dirk.

“A finger?” Dirk asked.

Sewell nodded. “It sends a message without killing her.”

Fuck. My heart sped up.

I didn’t want to lose a finger, even though they were right that it wouldn’t be fatal. I’d seen enough torture victims to know how painful it was.

“Put your hand on the ground,” Sewell ordered. “Fingers wide.”

Shaking, I lowered myself down and splayed my left hand on the concrete, the other tucked behind it. I gritted my teeth through the pain. Putting my right hand forward would have hurt less, but I’d rather lose a finger on my left hand than my right one.

“Hold her,” Sewell ordered his brother.

Dirk grabbed my uninjured shoulder and pushed down firmly enough that I couldn’t get up if I tried. Sewell rested the bloody blade of the knife on the base of my pinky finger and used his other hand to add pressure until the bite of the steel became painful.

“Stop!”

Sewell stilled, and the pressure eased up.

“Stop,” West repeated raggedly. “I’ll talk.”

My throat constricted. “Don’t,” I choked out, unable to look at him in case he saw my fear. “I can take it.”

“Maybe you can.” His voice was strained. “But you’re stronger than me. I can’t watch you suffer. Especially not when it’s my fault.”

Now, I did risk a glance at him. His head hung low, his shoulders slumped. He looked defeated.

“You’ll regret it,” I said, knowing it to be true.

West raised his eyes and looked straight at Sewell, ignoring me. “You’re right. I’m a federal agent. We have a small team investigating corruption in your precinct.”

My breath stuttered as Sewell released my hand.

What was West doing?

Sure, it wasn’t the whole truth, but it was more than he should have admitted.

“How many on this team?” Sewell asked, still holding the knife as if he might use it on me at any moment.

“Four. My handler, a tech guy, and another undercover agent. It’s top secret because we’re not sure who we’re able to trust.”

“Good.” Sewell looked pleased. “I want names.”

“No names.”

I exhaled sharply, relieved that West at least had the sense not to rat anyone out. Of course, from what he’d said, there were many more than four people involved, but it would make Sewell less jumpy if he believed the knowledge was localized to a handful of federal employees.

Sewell nodded to Dirk. He pivoted toward me, and I barely had time to brace myself before his knee drove into my gut. I gasped, my lungs struggling to drag in air. I keeled forward, catching my weight on my forearms.

“I swear, I don’t know their names,” West cried.

Sewell gestured for Dirk to hit me again. This time, he stood on my hand. I whimpered as something crunched and a dizzying wave of pain swept through me. Had he broken one of my bones? The ones in the hand were notoriously delicate.

“Fuck.” West started crawling toward me but was quickly stopped. “Adam. My handler’s name is Adam Teller. I only know the others through their code names: Firewall and Delta.”

A slow smile spread across Sewell’s face. “Excellent.”

“What are you doing?” I hissed at West, horrified by what he’d just admitted. “You can’t tell them that.”

He looked at me helplessly, as if he didn’t know himself why he’d caved. My gut churned, and I swallowed, doing my best to pretend I couldn’t feel the throbbing of my shoulder or the sticky wetness of my shirt, which was soaked with blood.

Sewell chuckled. “Poor Joanna. Wants to think everyone is as strong and righteous as her. Sometimes, men are foolish and weak.”

I searched West’s gaze, ignoring Sewell. There had to be more to it than that, but he looked so pathetic and downtrodden that I didn’t know what to believe.

Sewell scoffed. “Dirk. Let’s take your team on a hunting mission.”

“Wait,” West protested. “Joanna needs medical attention. ”

Sewell glanced at me dismissively. “She’ll survive. Or at least, she’ll survive long enough for me to verify the information you provided. If it doesn’t check out, I’ll be back and I doubt you’ll like the outcome.”

“But—”

“Sullivan, you stand watch,” Sewell said, cutting him off. “Call for backup from outside if you need, but I doubt they’ll give you much trouble. They’ve got their own problems.”

He and his brother strode past us, taking most of the remaining men with them. The man I assumed was Sullivan, a broad-shouldered guy of indeterminate age and built like a linebacker, remained with us, his hand hovering over his sidearm.

“What were you thinking?” I asked West quietly.

He scooted closer to me. Sullivan twitched but didn’t seem inclined to move from his position leaning against one of the containers.

“If they look up that name, all they’ll find is the address of an abandoned former safe house,” he murmured, shifting closer until his breath ruffled my hair. “Adam isn’t my handler’s real name. It’s an alias, set up for this purpose. The instant they show up at the address, my team will know one of us has been compromised. Considering my conversation with Adam earlier, I’m betting he’ll be able to guess who.”

Relief trickled through me, quickly followed by another splash of fear.

“They’ll be furious when they realize no one lives at the safe house.” I angled my face toward his so it would look like we were nuzzling each other rather than speaking.

“Then we’d better get out of here before then,” he replied.

“Stop whispering,” Sullivan snapped. “And do something about that arm. I don’t want anyone dying on my watch or the boss will have my head.”

“What do you suggest we do when we’re handcuffed?” West asked.

The guy narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, there was a crash outside. With a sigh, he drew his gun from its holster and waved it at us.

“Don’t try anything while I’m gone.” He circled around us, keeping a wide berth, and opened the door. He peered out, then apparently not seeing what he wanted, took a few steps outside.

“I’m really sorry for all of this,” West said, carefully getting to his feet and shuffling toward me. “You’d never be here if not for me.”

I shrugged, then winced as the cut on my shoulder protested the movement. “You were just doing your job.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, taking hold of my sleeve and ripping open the hole where the knife slashed the fabric. “But I let it get personal. Involving you the way we did was wrong, even if it was for a good cause. I just… I never thought you’d get hurt.”

I snorted, then swore as he pressed chilled fingers to my torn skin. He was deluded if he’d never expected me to get hurt. Yeah, perhaps he meant physically, but I was always going to be emotionally destroyed by his deception. I didn’t see how he could think anything different.

Footsteps slapped the pavement outside, the door flew open, and Sullivan sprinted toward us, shoving the door behind him but not pausing to lock it. He grabbed me by the waist and yanked me away from West, who stumbled and came after me, but with his hands cuffed—and shaking from being doused in cold water—there was little he could do .

Sullivan spun me around and lifted me until my toes were hardly brushing the ground. His gun touched my temple.

“Don’t move,” he muttered near my ear.

I stared at the door, a strange combination of emotions rioting through me. He was using me as a human shield, which meant someone must have arrived who he viewed as a threat. Perhaps Adam had changed his mind about backup and sent them after us. Damn I hoped they didn’t come in firing.

But it wasn’t federal agents who rushed through the entrance.

It wasn’t the police either.

A tightly grouped cluster of people in dark tactical gear with the King’s Security logo on their breast pockets moved into the warehouse as a unit.

My jaw dropped. What the hell were they doing here?

I recognized the man in front as David, one of the unit leaders in Kade Campbell’s personal security division. By his side was a short, feminine figure with a badass gun.

Hallie.

“Stand down,” David said, his tone even. From what I could recall, he had a background in hostage negotiation. Helpful at times like this.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot,” Sullivan replied, his voice shaking.

I grimaced. We were in a standoff. If nothing changed, we could easily get stuck here with neither side making any progress.

Clang!

A metallic sound outside distracted Sullivan for a couple of seconds.

That time was all I needed.

I ducked forward, then snapped my head back, ramming the back of my skull into his nose. The cartilage crumpled and hot blood showered my hair as I forced myself to become a deadweight.

Sullivan didn’t have the presence of mind to hold me in place. He let me drop to the floor, and in doing so, made himself vulnerable.

West lashed out at him, kicking the side of his ankle. It rolled beneath him, and he stumbled. I swept my legs in an arc, knocking him off balance.

He tripped forward, landing heavily on his palms.

In an instant, Hallie stood over him, her gun aimed at the back of his head. David unclipped a set of handcuffs from his belt and fastened Sullivan’s wrists together behind his back.

Hallie holstered her weapon and scanned me, her eyes widening as she noticed the blood drenching the side of my body.

“Boss. Cuff keys,” she said.

While David searched Sullivan’s pockets and emerged with a pair of keys, Hallie called for an ambulance. I held my wrists out to David, and he unlocked the cuffs before sliding them off. I turned my wrists in circles, trying to get the feeling back. David unlocked West’s cuffs as well, and then West was wrapping his arms around me and cradling me against his strong chest.

“Thank fuck,” he murmured against my hair. “You’re all right.”

“We’re all right.” I buried my face in his jacket, wishing it was his bare skin.

I pulled away enough to address the others.

“How come you’re here?” I asked Hallie.

Through the visor in her helmet, I saw her smirk.

“Zeke’s spidey senses were tingling,” she explained. “Apparently, it was easier to track down your perp than he thought it should have been, and that made him nervous. He did a sweep of the cameras in the area and realized you were in trouble.”

“Thank God for that.” If they hadn’t come, there was no way to be sure whether West’s team would have intercepted Sewell before he returned to us. I shook my head. “Zeke will be constantly calling in favors after this.”

West kissed my forehead. “As far as I’m concerned, he deserves them.”

With his free hand, he took his phone from his pocket. “I’d better call Adam.”

I started to move away, but his grip tightened.

“Stay,” he murmured.

“Okay.”

Hallie raised her eyebrow at me, and I shrugged my good shoulder. Yeah, it must be pretty obvious that I wasn’t mad at West anymore. In fact, I was just as crazy about him as ever.

West dialed the number and waited for the call to connect. He briefly outlined the situation to Adam. I listened, able to hear both sides of the conversation if I concentrated hard.

“We’ve already got a team en route to the safe house.” Adam’s voice was tinny and distant. “Do you want to meet us there and be the one to slap the cuffs on Dirk Sewell?”

My breath caught. Obviously, West would want to do that. He’d been searching for his father’s killer for months. But as he held my gaze, his expression warmed, and he blew me a silent kiss.

“No thanks,” he told Adam. “You do it. I’m needed elsewhere.”