Page 32 of The Unbuttoned Ranger (Texas Heat: The Heart of a Texas Ranger #1)

Well, this wasn’t how she’d envisioned this would go.

She’d walked right into Cross’s web, and the chances of getting out were slim.

He’d found the camera, knew her identity, and she had a feeling he’d killed people for far less.

Her team wouldn’t let her down, though.

Once she didn’t come out, they’d find a way to get inside.

How would they get inside? The club was crawling with Cross’s pet thugs.

All she could do was play dumb…and lie through her teeth.

“I can explain,” she said.

“Don’t waste your breath,” Cross said evenly.

“Keep the camera and I’ll walk away.” When in doubt, offer a trade.

A knock came on the door, and another bodyguard poked his head in. Something told her he wouldn’t save her any more than anyone else at the club.

“What is it, James? I’m a little busy here.” Cross sighed.

The group is looking for you.” James didn’t even seem to notice the perilous situation she was in.

“Tell them I’ll be there momentarily,” Cross said.

“What do you want me to do with her?” the first bodyguard asked.

“Lock her up where she can’t cause any problems. I’ll take care of her when I’m done.”

She was taken to a small, bare room with one window, located near the ceiling, protected with metal bars. The door closed behind her, and the lock slammed home.

She was truly in trouble now.

If Mateo knew what she’d done, the mess she was in, he’d go nuclear.

Now she regretted not sharing her plan with him.

Dragging in a deep breath, she paced the floor. What would Cross do with her?

She needed to keep her mind clear and devise a plan.

Escaping was the only way she would survive this alive.

She stopped and listened. She could hear cars outside the window and people laughing as they passed. What if I shimmy up the wall and pound on the window?

That’d be nearly impossible unless she had webbed fingers.

She started pacing again.

Then she saw the air vent. It could be her only chance to escape.

Her hopes were crushed when she saw that the cover was attached with screws.

However, her shoes could serve as a means of defense.

Or screwdrivers.

Removing one shoe, she used the pointed heel, and smiled when the screw started to loosen. The process was slow and tedious, but she finally unscrewed one bolt and then the second. She almost cried out in relief, but caught herself from celebrating because she wasn’t free yet.

Carefully lowering the cover, she peeked inside the air duct, removing cobwebs.

The space was narrow, but she thought she could fit inside.

Taking off her other heel, she left it behind as she squeezed into the tight opening, feeling slightly claustrophobic .

She’d always had a fear of tight spaces, but her bigger fear was death, which spurred her to keep moving through the passageway.

The bodyguard would be returning eventually, so she picked up her pace, which wasn’t an easy task by any stretch of the imagination.

By the time she’d reached another vent, she’d worked up a sweat. She peeked through the slats and discovered she’d made it to Cross’s empty office. She pushed on the cover, but it wouldn’t budge. She hadn’t thought that through very well.

She had no choice but to continue through the passage. The incline of the duct made it difficult for her to maneuver, but she refused to go back.

Finally, she came to the next vent cover—the men’s restroom.

And it was occupied.

Mercy peered through the slats and saw a man snorting cocaine in a stall. Why was he hiding his drug use when it was welcomed in the club?

Swallowing the tightness in her throat, she knew she needed to take the risk, and she called to the man. “Hello.”

The man stiffened, jerking his chin from left to right. “Hello?”

“Can you help me, please?” she whispered. “I’m stuck.”

He poked his head outside of the stall. “Mom? Is that you?” The man scrubbed his nose clean of white powder. “You always said if I weren’t a good boy, you’d come back from death to haunt me.” He looked up at the ceiling as if he were seeing heaven.

Mercy rolled her eyes, although his affected state would weigh in her favor.

“I need you to open the vent cover.”

He searched the bathroom and came to stand below the vent. “How’d you get in there, Mom?”

“It’s a long story. Hurry.”

“I’ll go get help.” He took a hurried step towards the door.

“No! Please, no.” She calmed down, so she didn’t make him more suspicious. “You can do this yourself.”

He hesitated, as if he were in a dream, trying to process the event. “Okay.” He spotted the wide vase, turned it over and used it as a stepping stool.

“Do you have something sharp to unscrew the bolts holding the cover in place?”

“No.” His lower lip puckered. “Wait!” He dug into his suit pocket. “A pen!”

It was better than nothing.

“Please hurry!”

He swiftly got to work on the bolts. One loosened, and soon the other followed suit. Mercy was never more grateful that the vent covers were the originals, which made them rusty and loose.

He pulled the cover away from the opening and squinted.

“Mom? You’re young.”

“Sorry. I’m not your mom, but can you help me down?”

Jumping off the vase and kicking it aside, he offered her a hand. With his help, she was able to squirm through the opening and into his arms. He carefully set her to her feet. “Am I being punked?”

“No, you’re not,” she said, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror and cringing. She was covered in dust and cobwebs, and her dress was ruined.

“Did Mom send you here?” The man continued to stare in confusion.

“I would stay and chat, but I need to scoot.” She rushed to the door, then looked back at him. “Could you do me another big favor? Don’t tell anyone about this?”

“I won’t. Did Mom send a message for me?”

Mercy started to ignore the question, but instead, she said, “Yes, she wants you to stop using drugs and get some help.”

He nodded.

Opening the door, she craned her neck in both directions, making sure the coast was clear.

She left the restroom, scurrying down the hallway stopping at the sound of footsteps. It could be Cross or the bodyguard returning. If they found her, all the work she’d done crawling through the vent would have been for nothing.

She frantically looked for somewhere to hide. She ducked to her right and ran down a shadowed corridor, pressing herself against the wall and hoping they wouldn’t come her way.

Holding her breath, she watched the bodyguard pass through the hall.

Once she no longer heard his footsteps, she tiptoed to the hall and peeked in the direction he’d gone. She ran out of the corridor and retraced the bodyguard’s steps. She wanted to cry when she saw the flickering EXIT sign.

Looking over her shoulder to make sure she was still alone, she carefully opened the metal door and burst into the dank, empty alley.

She didn’t have time to stop and question where she was or where she’d go. She ran away from the door.

Making it nearly to the sidewalk, the metal door came crashing open. “Stop!” the booming voice said.

A second later, a gunshot cracked the air. She cried out as she dropped to her knees and covered her head.

The bodyguard was coming toward her, his gun aimed.

He was going to kill her.

She waited for fate to drop the final curtain…

Headlights blinded her while tires screeched against the asphalt. The car door flew open, and she had to blink to confirm that what she was seeing was real.

“Get in!” McKinley demanded.

More shots shattered the air. One bullet ricocheted off the car.

She forced her feet to move and she jumped into the passenger seat, barely inside before he slammed his foot on the gas and reversed the car out of the alley while more bullets hit the windshield.

Another man joined the bodyguard, and they continued to pummel the vehicle with gunfire.

McKinley drove away from downtown, not stopping for red lights.

What the fuck happened?” He pounded the heel of his hand against the steering wheel.

She sat up straight in the passenger seat and turned around, scanning the street to ensure they weren’t being followed.

“Mateo is going to kill me. That’s what.”