It wasn’t easy to escape the hospital without setting off all the bells and whistles. But Michael was never one to hide from a challenge.

He called a taxi from his bedside phone before sneaking out of his room. The taxi brought him to a hotel a few blocks away, but he was careful to avoid the one where the Feds were camped out.

He entered the lobby of the hotel wearing his worn and bloody clothes. It was three in the morning. Seven hours had passed since he’d last seen Kate. The pain in his shoulder throbbed as he made his way to the conference room in the lobby. He ignored it as he settled behind a computer.

He accessed his private account—his untraceable, unhackable email account. How had Dustin known about it? He held his breath as he clicked open the only new email.

He lowered his face into his palm after he read the message.

There was no way in hell he could turn over sensitive government information to that psycho. Or give him carte blanche access to the encrypted intelligence software currently being used overseas. He couldn’t even consider the option. He had to try and negotiate with him—offer him money, something . . . anything else. He would trade his own life to bring Kate back alive.

His fingers stabbed at the keyboard.

When he pressed the send button, Michael sat back in the chair, fingers in a steeple at his chin, waiting. When the sound of new mail binged a minute later, his eyes burned as he read the note.

Bring what I want in exactly two hours. Meet me at the place where her mother died. And send your buddies to my rental home. Come alone, or she dies.

Michael closed out of his email and erased any evidence from the system. He rushed out of the hotel lobby and back to the taxi that he’d paid to wait on standby. He needed to get to his office in the city, and fast.

* * *

“He has five minutes.” Dustin looked over at Kate as she sat in the chair next to him with cuffed hands and roped ankles.

The headache she had from being knocked out by Dustin was nothing compared to the pain pooling in her gut in nervous anticipation for what was to come.

This can’t be happening. She glared at Dustin before glancing at the laptop. The computer displayed a home on the lake, one that was rigged with explosives, or at least, so Dustin told her.

“Your friend Jake should be credited for allowing my plan to work so flawlessly.” He shook his head and brought his hand to his chin as he focused on the screen.

She swallowed her fear as she watched men cloaked in black uniforms, guided by headlamps and long-range weapons, move in on the house.

Don’t go. Don’t do it.

An explosion blasted from the home moments later. Smoke billowed from the scene. The camera went out.

She struggled against the cuffs as tears filled her eyes. Had Jake or Connor been there? God, how many people died because of her? How could Michael follow Dustin’s commands? Didn’t he know it was a set-up? And what further hell did Dustin have in store?

“So many Feds. So many dead Feds.” He raised an eyebrow, and his eyes lit with obvious excitement. “Next.” He tapped a few buttons, and the screen switched to her grandparents’ home.

She held her breath and watched with trepidation, her face mimicking the panic that swelled inside her. “Please . . .”

It was dark outside. The sun had yet to slip into the sky, but she could see a dark figure approach the back of the house. He moved toward the door with a large briefcase in his hand. There was no gun in sight. God, Michael, no!

“Good boy,” Dustin said, staring with intense focus on the screen.

Kate’s eyes widened, and she tried not to betray her sudden shock.

“I guess you win,” she said, trying to mask her excitement. The body of the man in the video was leaner than Michael. And his hair was a little too short. “I can’t believe Michael would really betray his country.” Dustin diverted his attention to Kate, a smile of victory planted on his face. “You win,” she said again, trying to hide the fact that she’d caught sight of a shadow on the deck off the kitchen.

“I guess that means he loves you. Too bad he’ll never get to be with you.” He reached for the gun that hung from his sidearm holster strap.

She shivered as she heard Michael’s voice. “You’re always one Goddamned step ahead, but not this time.”

Dustin pivoted in his stance, finding Michael a few feet away.

Before Kate understood what was happening, she heard a shot ring through the air. She flinched as flecks of blood splattered her shoulder and arm.

Blood spurted from Dustin’s hand as his gun clattered to the floor. He pulled his hand to his body, cursing.

“Michael,” she cried.

Michael shifted his gaze to Kate for a second before focusing his weapon back on Dustin. “You thought you could outsmart me? That you could trick me into that house? Do you think that what you saw at the rental home was real, too?” He shot Dustin again without hesitation.

The bullet pierced his shoulder and Dustin took a step back, moving farther away from Kate.

“You believed what I wanted you to,” Michael said.

She was so close to him. If her hands weren’t cuffed, she’d reach out and touch him, just to make sure he was real.

“The Feds want me to keep you alive.” He tilted his head and studied Dustin, watching the blood ooze from the open wound. “I don’t know if I can do that.” He trained his weapon back on Dustin, aiming for his head.

“Put the gun down,” shouted a loud voice.

“No,” Michael responded, his eyes laser focused on the bloody figure before him.

Jake entered the room with a few other officers close behind him, dressed in full SWAT combat gear. “Michael, please, we need to interrogate him for information. We need to know his sources. Please.” Jake moved up behind Michael and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Kill me,” Dustin taunted. “You know you want to.”

“Michael, no—it’s what he wants. Death is too easy for someone like him.” Jake was desperate.

Dustin kneeled on the ground in the living room a few feet away, still holding his bleeding hand, the hole in his shoulder gaping and bloody.

“Michael, don’t do it.” Her own words surprised her. She wanted Dustin dead as much as Michael, if not more.

At the sound of Kate’s voice, Michael directed his attention to her. And after a few long moments of staring into her eyes, he lowered his weapon. “Kate,” he muttered as federal agents swarmed the room.

“Michael, I—”

“Are you okay?” He swooped to his knees in front of her and began untying the ropes at her ankles. A nearby officer tossed him a cuff key, and he freed her wrists.

She flung her arms around his neck, holding him as she sobbed. She felt him flinch, and she pulled away. He was hurt—of course, he was hurt. They’d been in a crash. “Are you okay?” She swiped at her tears, trying to focus.

“You’re okay, so yeah—I’m great.” He helped her out of the seat and pulled her close to his body. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get you.”

“How’d you know I was here?”

They held onto each other as they exited the cabin through the front door.

They were greeted by a swarm of flashing red and blue.

“I realized he would take you to the last place I would ever think of.” He walked her toward the waiting ambulance.

“Your own cabin,” she concluded and shook her head in disbelief. “I was at my grandparents’ place. That was where he first took me—I didn’t even realize it until he rushed me out of there.” She sat down on the bed in the ambulance and reached for Michael’s hand once he was next to her.

“I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you.” He tipped her face in his direction. “Dustin didn’t . . . um . . . he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Understanding flashed in her eyes. “No.” Thank God.

“This is all my fault. He used you to get to me. I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thick with guilt.

“I’m pretty sure it’s my dad’s fault.”