Chapter 19
The hollow sound of van doors opening sounded far off to Jess. The fog in her head slowly cleared, but the confusion still hung like a heavy raincloud. Cold metal froze her cheek. Her hands were fastened behind her back. She tried to shake free of her bonds, but the bindings her cut into her wrists with every movement.
Where the hell am I? What’s going on?
A hand grasped her by the elbow and yanked her upright. She stumbled out of the van as she tried to get her feet under her. Darkness greeted her, which did nothing to aid in figuring out where she was. Her head pounded. Sharp pain knifed through her eyes sockets and ricocheted around her brain. She blinked a few times. She was being forced toward a building of some type. Light spilled out a large window in the front. A wood porch panned the front of what looked like a cabin.
Snow crunched under her feet. Too deep for it to be Providence or Newport…at least the last time she’d been outside in either place.
How long have I been unconscious? Hours? Days? Longer?
She guessed it was possible there had been a snowstorm while she was out of it, but the crunchy layer of ice on the top of the foot of snow indicated some time had passed.
Or I’m not in Boston anymore.
The front door of the cabin opened, and her captor shoved her through. She sprawled onto the highly polished wood floor of the foyer. Her chin struck the floor and sent another burst of pain through her face, neck, and head. She attempted to roll over, but only made it to her side with her hands behind her back.
A booted foot came toward her, but she had no way to block it. The kick landed in her stomach. Reflexively, her knees came up to block the next kick. When the boot landed in the center of her shin, her captor said something in Russian, but she knew by the tone he was not happy about being unable to kick her somewhere softer. More vulnerable.
Someplace that might cause as much damage internally as it did pain.
A knee dropped next to her, and for a split second she thought he might show mercy and help her to her feet. Instead his fist slammed into her cheek so hard, she was sure he had knocked out all the teeth on that side of her mouth. Metallic liquid flooded her mouth, and she gagged on her blood.
She squinted out of one eye. The man’s fist was posed just above her head. She tucked her chin to her chest and brought her knees in tight. Perhaps becoming a small and tight ball might protect her head.
Another body moved beside her.
“Stop,” the new voice said. “She belongs to Yurik. If you beat her to death before he gets here, he’ll take great pleasure in torturing the both of us before he kills us in her place.”
Her captor said something unintelligible again but stepped away from her.
Two hands grasped her around her upper arms and hauled her to her feet. A significant amount of blood pooled on the floor where she had just been. With one man on either side of her, they dragged her down a hallway, forced her down a set of wood stairs, and tossed her onto a cold, cement floor. She forced herself to remain still, hoping if she appeared unconscious, the challenge of beating her as close to death as possible wouldn’t be as appealing.
Jess held her breath. One of the men cut the tie that bound her hands. The rush of blood stung her hands, and nearly made her cry out. Boots stomped up the wood stairs, the door shut, and a lock engaged. Jess let the air she held in her lungs out with a long, agonizing groan. Rolling onto her back, she fought to make sense of what had happened.
She was in Newport with Mason—no, they had left Newport. Boston. The hockey game. She had been at the bar across the street with…what was his name? The guy…with the dog?
Sean. He had told her Mason and his team captured the terrorists. She was safe.
She went to the restroom.
The guy she had seen at the bar. She recognized him.
One of Forrester’s friends from Providence. He stuck her with a syringe, and that was the last thing she remembered.
She peered around the space, but there was only a little light that came from a single dim bulb overhead. Something shuffled nearby. Jess stilled. Was it a rat? Something bigger?
Listening intently to the quiet, she heard a faint whimpering.
“Is someone there?” Jess said just above a whisper.
“Jess?”
A familiar voice, but one that made Jess’s heart shred with guilt. “Mom?” Tears sprung to her eyes. She crawled toward the voice. Hurt sliced through her body. A jackhammer pounded inside her head, perfectly synced to her racing heartbeat.
Huddled into a dark corner was Jess’s mom. By the time Jess made it over to her, any stored energy she had was gone, and she collapsed on the floor next to the woman.
“Jess,” her mother cried, and bent over her daughter’s body. “Oh my God, what is going on?”
“I did something stupid, Mom,” Jess said, her voice faltered. “And I’m so sorry you’ve been dragged into it.”
“What?” her mother said, a familiar edge to her voice. “What did you do, Jessica?”
Jess and her mother had never been particularly close. In fact, for most of Jess’s life, she wondered if the woman hated her. Jess was sure that if her father hadn’t been around to be a buffer between the women, Jess would’ve been put up for adoption. Or left on the side of the rode like an old mattress.
After years of feeling as if she were a burden to her mother while being the apple of her father’s eye, Jess had gotten used to her mother’s attitude towards her. It had taken less than a month after her father’s death for Jess to leave home and never return. As it was, the two women only spoke a few times a year, and it was not usually a pleasant experience for either of them.
And now, here we are.
“I shot a man,” Jess said, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. She didn’t want her mother to think Jess regretted the action. She did, of course, in some way. Her friends were dead because of her actions, and now her mother’s death would also be at her hands. The only part that wouldn’t allow her to feel total regret was the part where she had met Mason.
God, Mason…did he find the necklace outside the bar? Would he be able to find her in time?
Probably not. And that meant that the time they had together, even as brief as it was, had been the most special of her life.
She had found love.
No—her only regret was not telling Mason that she loved him. She hoped, on some level, he knew. And would not blame himself for her death.
“What do you mean, you shot a man?”
Her mother’s voice snapped Jess back to reality.
“He had a gun, and I thought he was going to rape, or murder me. I happened to get the gun away, and when he came after me, I shot him.”
Her mother stared at her for a moment, her face blank. Her emotions unreadable. It was an improvement over the usual. Jess had always been able to detect reservation with a note of loathing in her mother’s reactions to her.
“So—how does that explain what is going on now?”
“The man was the son of a Russian terrorist—and he’s after me. You were used as bait to get me out in the open.”
“Why would you let them use me that way?”
The question took Jess by surprise. She stared at her mother, confusion made her head reel. “I’m sorry?”
“If you knew they were using me to get to you, you had to know they were going to kill me even if they did get you. Why would you walk into their trap?”
“Well, that wasn’t the plan,” she snapped. “We used a decoy, but something went wrong, and—well—here I am.”
“Who’s we?”
“A team of military special operators who are trying to catch these guys, and protect me. And you. They must not’ve known about the guy in the bar that grabbed me.”
“Obviously,” her mother snided.
The statement sent a burst of rage through Jess. “Don’t worry, Mason will find us.”
“And who is Mason?”
He’s everything…
“He’s a Navy SEAL on the team,” Jess said. “He’s been protecting me. He won’t stop until he finds me—finds us.”
Her mother’s eyebrow quirked up, her features softened, and a smile spread across her face. “You love him.”
“Yes, I do,” Jess said without hesitation. “With all my heart.”
“Does he love you?”
“He told me he did.” Of course, he had been talking in his sleep at the time. But that counts, right?
“I’m happy for you,” she said. “I hope you are able to have a long blissful life together. Provided we get out of this mess.”
So close…the woman was a master of nearly making Jess feel loved before snatching it away. “I told you, Mason will find us. He’ll save us.”
The door at the top of the steps creaked open. Jess grabbed her mother’s hand and squeezed. No matter how they felt about each other, or the amount of contention between them—at that moment they were all each other had. Jess may not understand her mother, but she damned well didn’t want to her to die.
Please find us, Mason.
* * *
Yurik walked through the spacious cabin owned by his cousin, William Hutton, and pulled the gloves from his hands. The thought of his imbecile cousin sitting in jail awaiting trial for funding terrorism sent white hot rage through his already tense body. Within a few months, the RRA had come from the shadows not as a roaring lion but as a whimpering mouse.
First, it was the discovery of the use of Hutton’s charitable organization as a front for laundering money to fund the organization, which led to the destruction of a training facility in Colombia, and the death of Yurik’s uncle, Grigory Petrov.
Then, during the takeover of the US Embassy in Jordan, Yurik’s nephew, Andrew, was shot and killed by a female CIA analyst. The takeover had ultimately been a failure after Yurik’s nephew failed to secure the Ambassador as a hostage. A small group of American special ops had thwarted the RRA’s mission and Alrick had been taken into custody.
The worst, by far, was the murder of his son by that little cunt, Jess Baylor.
“Where is she?” Yurick asked through a clenched jaw. The plan had not gone exactly as planned, and two more members of the RRA were now in US custody. At least he had procured Jess Baylor. And now, he was going to deal with the woman who had murdered his son.
And she was going to regret ever pulling the trigger.
“Downstairs with the other woman,” Alexei said, and escorted him to the basement door.
“Is everything set up?” Yurik asked.
Alexei nodded. “Yes, just as you instructed.” He was a good soldier for the cause, and Yurik could imagine the young man would be an asset to them in the future. He was much like Yurik—driven. Ruthless, bordering on cruel.
Everything he should be to ensure the organization was successful.
Yurik followed Alexei and the other man, Tomas, down the stairs. In the back corner, the two women huddled together. Yurik’s gaze landed on the younger of the two. His blood boiled like lava right before a volcanic eruption. The woman who had stolen his son. His legacy.
Why should she live when his son was dead?
Oh, the things he had planned for her. She would beg for death before he was through with her.