TWELVE
“Where is it?”
Karly’s heart hammered. The arm around her throat tightened, and she tried to crane her neck back to breathe.
“The feds were here yesterday. I know they asked about me.” The voice was a low growl in her ear, but she recognized it. “Now, tell me where your press pass is, the one you had with you, or”—he smacked the pistol against her cheek—“you’re going to eat this gun.”
Karly struggled for air. Her vision dimmed. The arm around her neck loosened, and she slumped backward.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
A blast of pain as he punched her cheek. Stars danced before her eyes, and she was on the ground, staring at the sofa cushions that had been tossed on the floor.
She blinked up at him, her vision blurring. It was him. Green. X. He’d ransacked her apartment. He’d waited here for her. He was ready to kill her.
He would kill her as soon as he got what he wanted.
He grabbed her by the hair, and fire tore up her scalp as he yanked her to her feet. The pistol pressed against her cheek again, and he hauled her against him.
“Where. Is. That. Press pass.”
Her heart thundered. “It’s in—” It was in the computer bag in her trunk, but she couldn’t tell him that. “It’s in my desk at work. With the camera.”
He went still. The grip on her hair tightened, and tears burned her eyes.
“What camera?”
“We got a picture of you. It’s from a distance, but . . . the FBI wants to see it.”
Pain pulsed through Karly’s skull. The metallic taste of blood pooled in her mouth. She stared into his angry dark eyes and tried to hold back tears.
“We’re going for a ride.”
He swung her toward the door. She caught herself against the wall, and the pistol was back against her cheek.
“Don’t run or scream or say a fucking word to anyone. Got me?”
He jerked the door open and pushed her into the hallway. He followed her, and she somehow knew his gun was aimed at her back through the pocket of his black canvas jacket. He wore a baseball cap, too, pulled low to shield his face.
They reached the stairs, and Karly heard the high-pitched chatter of her neighbor’s daughter at the bottom of the stairwell.
“Goldfish, Mommy.”
“Not for breakfast, sweetheart. Eat your toast.”
Karly tripped on the stairs, catching herself against the banister. Green grabbed the collar of her jacket and pushed her forward. She rounded the corner on the landing and held her breath as they passed her neighbors in the foyer at the base of the stairs.
Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything.
Karly avoided eye contact as she pushed through the door of her building and calmly crossed the sidewalk to the parking lot. Another neighbor was out with his dachshund, and Karly avoided eye contact with him, too.
Was she cut? Bleeding? She swished the blood in her mouth and swallowed it down as she made her way to her car.
Ethan’s jacket.
She was still wearing it, and her phone was tucked inside. He hadn’t checked her pockets, but any minute now, Agent Mays might call her back, drawing his attention to the phone.
“You drive. I’ll watch.” He tossed keys at her, and she caught them against her chest.
Her keys. He must have scooped them off her floor when she’d dropped them.
She popped the locks for her car. He walked her to the driver’s side, making sure she saw the bulge of the gun inside his pocket as he opened the door and waited for her to get behind the wheel.
Karly slid inside the car. He shut the door. Panic surged through her as he kept his gaze on her while he moved around the front. She didn’t have time, but—
She dug her hand into her pocket and fumbled with the phone. She hazarded a glimpse at it and made a few frantic taps at the screen.
The passenger door jerked open, and then he was inside.
“Go!”
She started the car and rocketed back from the space.
“Stop!”
She slammed on the brakes just in time to avoid hitting another car backing out. The driver tapped his horn and gave her a scowl.
Deep breath. She could do this.
As calmly as she could manage with her heart about to pound out of her chest, Karly exited the parking lot and headed for work.
Ethan’s phone vibrated again. He waited until he hit a red light and pulled it out to check the number.
Karly.
Her message was simple: XXX.
Ethan’s heart gave a kick. Triple X? Not exactly what he’d expected, but okay. He waited for more. Maybe a selfie of her just out of the shower or . . .
He stared down at his phone. XXX. The skin at the back of his neck prickled. No way. Impossible. But . . .
“Come on, Karly.”
No sexy photos, nothing. Ethan tapped the phone and started to call her, but then he stopped himself. What if she was sending him a message? Maybe she’d seen the man somewhere. Maybe he was with her right now.
A horn blast behind him. Ethan glanced up at the green light.
Cursing, he moved the gearshift and shot through the intersection. He eased into the right lane and slowed down to look at his phone again.
“Come on, come on.”
But there was nothing more. Just the Xs.
Ethan’s chest constricted. He was crazy. Paranoid. No doubt, she’d think he was obsessed, but he needed to check.
“Fuck it.”
He careened across traffic and pulled a U-turn.
She’d made a mistake. A big one.
Instead of confronting him in her apartment—for better or for worse—she was leading him to a public place with innocent people around. Karly’s stomach roiled as she imagined what might happen if she took him into her office.
She glanced at him in the passenger seat. The gun was out now. He gripped it in his right hand, resting it on his thigh, and his gaze kept darting to the side mirror.
“Here’s what you’re going to do. You listening?”
She nodded.
“We get there, you call your assistant.”
“I don’t have—”
“Your coworker. Whatever. Make sure it’s a woman, and have her bring down the pass and the camera. Got it?”
She nodded.
“No surprises. Or she’s dead.”
She cut a glance at him. His accent. It was faint, but he had one. It reminded her of a reporter she’d once known from Wisconsin.
He was definitely American. And he had to have ties here. Accomplices. People in place to help him carry out his plot, whatever it was. Otherwise, why care so much about the FBI identifying him through a fingerprint or a photo when he was already inside the country?
“Hey!” he snapped. “You got me?”
“Yes.”
Karly’s hands were sweaty. She kept them on the steering wheel, her knuckles white, as she rolled to a stop.
What could she do? How could she get out of this? Maybe if she spotted a police car, she could jump the curb and get their attention. Or she could do that anyway. She could smash into a lamppost or a parked car. She darted her eyes around looking for an opportunity. The sidewalks were filled with pedestrians, but up ahead was a parking lot.
“Eyes forward.” He jabbed the pistol against her ribs. “No bullshit, or you’re fucking dead.”
The light turned green.
Karly tightened her hands on the wheel. Dread filled her as she pressed the gas.
Ethan was about to lose it. Traffic was a bitch, and he was catching every red light on the way to her place. He’d never been there before, but he knew where she lived. He’d resisted the urge to drive by in the days since he’d been back because he wasn’t some creepy stalker. He felt like one right now, though, racing across town to catch her getting dressed for work so he could demand an explanation for her triple-X text message.
It was crazy. Probably.
But if it wasn’t crazy . . .
Ethan’s pulse was racing. He felt like a maniac. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, but the green light ahead of him turned yellow, the car in front of him slammed on the brakes, and Ethan skidded to a halt, cursing. He cast a desperate look at his phone.
Nothing. Still. And it had been eight minutes.
He looked around, trying to come up with an alternative route with less traffic.
And then he spotted her.
The red Audi sitting in the turn lane opposite him, waiting for the light to change. It was her. Had to be. It looked like her car and her shape behind the wheel.
And there was someone in the seat beside her. Tall. Ballcap.
No way. No fucking way.
But Ethan wasn’t seeing things. It was Karly sitting in that turn lane. And there was some random man in the seat beside her.
Ethan’s throat went dry. What the hell was he doing? Where was he taking her?
He was taking her somewhere. No way she was riding with him willingly. Ethan pictured a gun pointed at her, and his gut clenched.
Karly’s head turned in his direction, and Ethan waited, heart pounding. Did she see him?
Her light changed to green, and she made the turn. It was her. It was. She had her hand resting on the steering wheel in a closed fist.
Ethan’s blood turned icy. A closed fist, the signal for stop. His team had used that signal during the op, and Karly had been there. She knew.
That signal was meant for him.
As Karly neared her building, she was sweating all over. Her back, her front, her palms, her neck. Her heart was galloping so fast she could hardly breathe.
Six more blocks. Three stoplights. Hadn’t Ethan seen her? Hadn’t he understood?
But they were minutes away from the destination, and Ethan was nowhere in sight. Not in front of her, not behind her, nowhere. And she hadn’t heard the faintest hint of a siren, so he hadn’t called for help.
“Get in the right lane.”
Karly gulped down her fear and did as directed. X obviously knew where they were going. He knew the building was just up ahead, so there was no taking a detour to stall for time. Still, she eased her foot off the gas to slow things down.
Something smashed into her from behind. The car lurched forward. She slammed on the brakes as both she and X pitched forward into the dashboard.
“What the—” He jerked around.
Karly checked the rearview mirror.
A black Jeep sat behind her car. It was empty.
Karly shoved her Audi into park just as the passenger door jerked open.
The terrorist turned with his gun, but a big arm reached in and dragged him out.
“Ethan!”
Pop! Pop!
Karly screamed at the gunshots. She shoved open her door and lunged out, barely missing a car in the neighboring lane.
Pop!
She scrambled behind the Jeep, using it for cover as she peered over the hood to see what was happening.
Her passenger door was open. But Ethan and X were gone.
Ethan sprinted down the alley. The tango darted around a corner. Ethan pulled to a stop to take a look before following so he wouldn’t get his head blown off as he went around the building.
Tango X was at the end of the alley, scaling a wooden fence. Ethan took off after him. He reached him just in time to grab the guy’s foot, but X jerked free, and Ethan heard him land with a grunt on the other side.
Ethan scaled the fence in less than a second, then took a leap onto the tango. The guy lunged sideways, and Ethan caught his shoulder.
Pop!
The noise reverberated through Ethan’s brain as he rolled to the side. That had been close. He jumped to his feet again and raced after X, who was turning another corner.
Ethan ran flat out. He ducked low as he rounded the building and saw the tango sprinting toward a busy street.
A brown delivery truck, no doors, pulled to a stop at the curb. X raced straight for it.
Pop!
The driver’s face exploded in a burst of red. X leaped inside the truck, kicked the dead man out, and jumped into the driver’s seat. He threw the truck into gear and swerved into traffic.
Ethan sprinted after him. He leaped onto the back bumper, grasping for a hold, but there was nothing, and he was clinging to the roof and the side of the truck by his fingertips. He crouched down and grabbed the handle of the rear cargo door.
Suddenly, the truck swerved left, then right, and Ethan strained to hold on. The tango knew he was back there and was trying to lose him as they sped through an intersection, horns blaring from every direction.
Ethan pulled the cargo door, but it wouldn’t budge.
Pop! Pop!
Twin bullet holes appeared beside his head. Ethan gave the door a mighty yank, pulling it open a few feet. He dove inside, rolled across the cargo space, and collided with a tower of boxes.
Pop!
Ethan sprang to his feet and lunged for the tango’s gun, elbow-jabbing him in the face as he tried to get the weapon. The truck swerved. Ethan yanked the wheel just in time to miss crashing into the back of a bus.
Pop!
The windshield exploded. X punched his jaw, and Ethan’s head snapped back. He shook it off and reached for the gun again, smashing the tango’s wrist against the steering wheel, but the guy held on to the weapon.
Another sharp swerve, then a deafening crunch of metal as they plowed into a lamppost with bone-rattling impact.
Everything went gray, and Ethan found himself on his knees by the gearshift, X slumped over the wheel. Ethan reached up and grabbed the guy’s neck, and they were locked in a struggle as X tried to aim the pistol at him. With Ethan on his knees and X in the driver’s seat, the terrorist had the advantage.
Ethan grabbed the seat-belt strap and hauled himself up, then hit X with a brutal head-butt. X grabbed him, and they fell together through the door, crashing to the pavement. The pistol skidded across the street into traffic.
The tango got to his feet, but Ethan lunged for him, bringing him back down, grabbing him by the neck to pummel his face again and again. Sirens screamed around them as they wrestled and punched. X managed to roll out from under Ethan and land a sharp blow to his temple. Ethan throat-punched him, immobilizing him for an instant. Heaving himself up, Ethan grabbed X by the arm, flipped him onto his stomach, and gave a fierce yank, dislocating his shoulder. The tango bellowed and kicked Ethan’s knee. Ethan pulled harder.
“Freeze!”
Ethan looked up to see half a dozen cops around him, guns drawn. More sirens sounded nearby.
“Drop the weapon! Hands up!”
Ethan didn’t budge. He didn’t have a weapon, but he had no doubt that if he so much as moved, his captive would make a run for it.
“Hands up! Now!”
“Wait! Stop!”
Ethan glanced to his left, where a tall brunette in a suit was pushing her way through the crowd that had gathered. Alexa Mays. The agent was holding up a badge, and she was trailed by a refrigerator-size man in a suit. Just behind the man was Karly.
Ethan’s gaze locked on Karly’s, and relief flooded him.
Until he noticed all the guns still pointed at him.
“Special Agent Mays, FBI,” the woman announced, stopping beside the police officers. Her gaze landed on Ethan, and he could see she recognized him. Either that or Karly had filled her in.
“Mays.” Ethan nodded. “Think this is your guy.”
“Thank you.” She whipped out a pair of handcuffs. “We’ll take it from here.”