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  She straightened. “Good. I’ll see myself out.”

  The beefy guard laughed, and the sound reverberated off the cement stairwell. He stepped forward and shot out his hand. His rough palm snagged her wrist, and he towed her down the last few steps to the ground floor. “Unfortunately we can’t do that, princess. Romy would like to have a few . . .” He swirled his fingers in the air. “Words with you.” She coiled away from his cigarette-tainted breath as the implication of his words fell over her like a stack of sheet metal.

  Romy. Shit.

  Disgust collided with indignation. Whether he’d meant it as a joke or a threat, the gleam in his coal-like eyes rang warning bells in her head. She should have killed Romy when she had the chance. Being so close to Igor, with the gun around her chest aimed at his abdomen, she might be able to kill him and run before he could retaliate. She moved her finger on the trigger.

  Ubrigg coughed sharply, and she looked up at him. His beady green eyes locked on her fingers and then her face. She might be able to kill the guard, but then she’d also have to kill Ubrigg before he could take the gun from her.

  Too dangerous.

  Ubrigg reached forward, snagged the gun, and dragged the strap over her head. He hung it at his side. “Igor, let’s take her—”

  The lights went out, bathing them in darkness. Igor’s fingers strangled her bicep, and he pressed her back to his chest. “What’s going on?” he asked, his tone menacing.

  Dani scanned the stairwell, her eyes struggling to adjust to the blackout. She blinked and tuned her ears to the dead silence. Hope pitter-pattered against her breastbone. Brock. It had to be him. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. If he was here, he was alive.

  Please, God, don’t let this be some cruel trick, just a blown fuse.

  She took slow, shallow breaths so as not to alert Ubrigg and Igor to her angst.

  “Fuse box is on the main level,” Ubrigg said. “One moment.” He rustled around, and a few seconds later his cell phone’s flashlight lit the stairwell. “This way.” He motioned Igor to go back through the door they’d entered.

  Igor twisted her arm back painfully, and she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. No way in hell she’d give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt her. He shoved her through the shadows. She focused on every shape, praying one of them would move and Brock would step out.

  Forcing her breath down her throat, she fought the urge to run. What to do? Brock was here—he had to be. Was she supposed to try to escape? Give him a sign about where she was? She sure as hell didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire if he encountered Ubrigg while searching for her.

  She had to alert Brock to her whereabouts. She snapped her arm forward, jerking Igor. “You don’t have to hold on to me so tight. I’m not going anywhere.” She spoke more loudly than necessary.

  “Shh!” He pinched her arm tighter in his hold. “Keep walking. How far to the fuse box, boss?”

  “Not far.”

  They inched down the corridor as if they were moving through thick black sludge. Ubrigg’s beam of light illuminated only a triangle of hallway in front of him. With every step Dani carefully toed the tile in front of her.

  A soft scuffle slithered across the floor behind her. Her senses prickled and she turned her head toward the sound.

  “I said, keep moving.” Igor’s spit hit her ear, and she lifted her shoulder to wipe the droplets from her skin. She was hearing things.

  “Here we are,” Ubrigg called out cheerfully. The beam from his cell phone illuminated the electrical room’s door.

  Dani’s stomach did somersaults and tears swelled behind her lids. The wall of Igor’s chest closed in behind her, preventing her from escaping. Brock hadn’t come. She dipped her chin and a shiver raked over her exposed skin.

  She swallowed and curled her hand into a fist at her side. She wouldn’t wipe the tears from her face and give either of the two bozos the satisfaction of seeing her defeat.

  “What the hell?” Ubrigg jammed his shoulder against the metal door, and it bounced on the hinges.

  “Is it locked?”

  “There’s no lock on this door.” Ubrigg tried the handle again.

  Another slither. Dani straightened her spine and glanced out of the corner of her eye. Soft, shallow puffs of air broke through her lips.

  Someone’s here.

  Her heart sang with relief momentarily, until fear brought it to a screeching halt. If it wasn’t Brock, it could be someone more dangerous—someone like Giles Artis.

  “Move aside, doc. I’ll get the door.”

  The air in the hall shifted, dragging the hairs on her flesh to a point. Something rushed toward her and she ducked.

  “Argh!” Igor’s gurgled scream ripped through the silent hall.

  Dani cried out and tried to leap out of harm’s way, but Ubrigg’s hand bit into her neck. The dark form released Igor, and he toppled to the floor in a heap. A large, solid figure turned toward her. Ubrigg’s hand fumbled in front of her. The light from his phone revealed the body of their attacker.

  Blood-splattered olive skin filled her vision. The wall of ripped and bulging muscle heaved. She dropped her gaze to Igor’s body in the glow. Blood gushed from a gash across his jugular. His trembling hand was coated in red, and his eyes were wide and locked on the floor.

  Fear turned her body to stone, but she didn’t tear her gaze away. Then Brock stepped into the light and the floor fell beneath her feet.

  * * *

  Satisfaction filled Brock’s veins as he watched the dying bastard at his feet. Then he fastened his fingers on the scalpel and looked up. Ubrigg’s arm was crossed in front of Dani’s chest, and he held her in front of him like a shield. The phone fell from Ubrigg’s grip and the device danced on the tile, sending flashes of light across the wall.

  Brock smirked. He didn’t dare lock eyes with Dani—doing so would be his undoing. He needed to end Ubrigg like he’d ended the guard. And for that, he needed to keep his blood cold. The lights snapped on, and Brock’s pupils adjusted quickly. Ubrigg blinked rapidly and Dani winced.

  “Not another step!” Ubrigg’s shaky arm moved. Brock lowered his gaze and froze in his tracks. Ubrigg held an assault rifle, and it was pointed directly at Dani’s side.

  “Back up.” He waved.

  The tendons in Brock’s legs protested despite his brain telling them to move. He watched Dani’s chest lift in and out on haggard breaths. Her sequined gown flashed with every inhale. He finally met her eyes and curled his hands into fists at his sides.

  Her cheeks had sunk into her face, and her skin was so damn pale she rivaled Ubrigg’s lab coat. Tears dangled on her eyelashes and her lips trembled on a smile. Every strand of tension in his body weakened, and he dropped the scalpel. The metal spiraled on the floor as if playing a twisted game of spin the bottle. It stopped at Ubrigg’s shoe and he kicked it, sending it skittering down the hall.

  The tears at Dani’s lashes overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. She closed her eyes as if accepting this as their good-bye.

  Hell fucking no.

  “Let her go.” He hated the plea that wrenched his larynx.

  “Where’s the flash drive?” Ubrigg’s disheveled appearance contradicted every photo Brock had seen of him. His curly brown hair swayed with every movement, his glasses teetered on the end of his nose, and his sharp green eyes were wide and frantic.

  A drop of the guard’s blood rolled down Brock’s chest. The hot fluid cooled as it reached his sternum. His hand tingled with the urge to wipe off the evidence of death, but he didn’t dare make a move that would spook Ubrigg.

  “Right here.” He dug into his pocket and then held the drive up near his shoulder.

  “Good.” Ubrigg’s tongue swept over his pasty lips, and he waved the gun at the floor. “S-Set it down and walk away. If you do as you’re told, I’ll let her go.”

  Dani’s throat bobbed. He was lying. Brock pinched the device between his fingers a
nd lowered his hand to hover at his waist.

  “I’m not going anywhere without her.” His voice rolled out hard, determined. He meant every damn word. He trained his laser-focused stare on Ubrigg, willing him to release Dani. Part of him wanted to lunge, to take the risk. Ubrigg was losing his cool and if Brock didn’t do something fast, they’d all end up with their guts plastered on the interior of this godforsaken building.

  “Do it now or you’ll both die!” Ubrigg rose onto his toes and directed the weapon at Brock’s midsection.

  Seeing the opportunity, Dani threw herself to the side. Brock dove for the gun. He locked his hands over the top of the rifle and steered the nozzle toward the wall. Ubrigg clung to the handle and closed his finger over the trigger.

  “Dani, get down!” The scream ripped through his throat. Brock drove his shoulder into Ubrigg’s stomach, throwing his fingers off the trigger.

  The electrical room door opened and Ubrigg jerked his head over his shoulder.

  “Hello.” Rhett smacked the butt of his gun down on Ubrigg’s skull with a sharp thunk, and the man floated to the ground. Brock yanked the weapon away from Ubrigg, shoved the gun into Rhett’s hands, and whipped around.

  Dani lay curled on her side on the tile floor. A sea of red on a backdrop of white. He stepped over Ubrigg’s unconscious form and fell to his knees in front of her. She laughed and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Oh my god. I can’t believe you’re okay. When you didn’t show, I—I . . .”

  “Shh, it’s all right.” He coasted his hands over her back, soothing the trembles that wracked her body. She curled her face into the crook of his neck and he locked her in an embrace. She sobbed again and his insides wrenched. Emotion thickened the lining of his throat. Dipping his face into her hair, he breathed in the scent of fresh hair dye and piney hotel shampoo. Those scents didn’t stir familiarity, but the soft peppermint of her skin calmed his still jumping nerves.

  He pulled away and caught her face between his palms. “Baby, are you okay?” He moved the pad of his thumb under her eye, over the thick river of mascara and tears.

  She turned her cheek and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I’m fine. Now.”

  He searched every inch of her exposed skin: a fresh bruise on her forearm, thick purple cuffs around the delicate skin at her wrists, and the greenish-yellow remnants of the rope that had nearly strangled her days ago at Leland’s house.

  She was far from okay. He dropped his forehead to hers and kissed her cheek, then her nose, then her lips. “Fuck, Dani. I thought I’d never see you again. I thought that bastard would murder you when I didn’t show. It nearly fucking killed me knowing I couldn’t get to you.”

  He heard sirens, and Dani’s gaze flickered around the hall. “Uh, Brock?”

  He chuckled. “It’s all right. Rhett’s here,” he said, moving his shoulder out of her line of vision so she could see him.

  Her mouth hung open and the skin above her brow puckered. “How . . .” She shook her head and Brock held out his hand.

  “It’s all over now.”

  Rhett’s footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned to look over his shoulder. Dani curled her fingers into his and he helped her to her feet.

  “They’ll need to take you to the police station for statements and questions, but not to worry. Brock filled me in on who the real terrorists are and with that information, we won’t have a problem getting you both back to the United States ASAP.”

  Dani nodded, but her delicate shoulders shivered. Brock wrapped his arm around her and held her against his chest. “It’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t want to leave you.” She circled her hand around his wrist and fire blasted from her aqua eyes.

  Rhett cleared his throat. “They’ll need to separate you for your statement, but—”

  Crack! Crack! Crack!

  Bullets fired from the end of the hallway. Brock shoved Dani against the wall, blocking the spray of bullets with his body. One ripped through his shoulder and pain obliterated his senses. Rhett’s anguished curses reached Brock’s ears but he didn’t dare look.

  Dani’s scream bounced off the walls, splitting his eardrums. She clapped her hands over her ears as the onslaught of shots ricocheted around her. Dust billowed around them and small pieces of debris whipped his skin.

  “Who the hell is that?” Brock shouted as Rhett returned fire, throwing off the shooter.

  “It’s Romy! The guard I fought off.”

  More gunshots fired and Rhett howled. “Shit!” Rhett disappeared around the corner of the cafeteria door. “Brock, get her out!”

  Fuck. There was no way out. The shooter advanced down the hallway. His black attire matched that of his dead partner’s. Murder blazed from his black eyes. They were locked on Dani, and so was the end of his gun. Brock wrenched open the door of the electrical room as more bullets rained down. He threw Dani into the room and crouched behind the open door.

  Peeking around the corner, Brock spotted Rhett laying slumped on the ground. Blood pooled on the front of his shirt. Brock fumbled with the gun’s clip, but steel pellets littered the door, shaking it against Brock’s body.

  “Brock!” Dani shouted. “Grab the gun!”

  He tore his gaze to the assault rifle Rhett must have dropped. He dove into the hall, locked his hand around the neck strap, and pulled it to him. Keeping the door propped on his knee, he peeked around the corner and returned fire.

  The gun blasted out bullets, shuddering against Brock’s shoulder. The guard dove for cover, but Brock’s shots ripped through the man’s legs. He yelled and cursed then fired again. Something bashed into the side of Brock’s head, knocking him off balance. Paralysis rolled down his arms and the gun landed at his feet.

  “Police! Laissez tomber votre arme!”

  Brock lowered the gun to the floor. He tried to raise his hands above his head, but the motion sent him tumbling backward. His tailbone connected with the hard floor. Dani’s chest slammed against his back, and he rested on her belly. Her hands rubbed his skin, cooling his heated flesh.

  The loud hum of electricity buzzed with the vibrations of voices, and Brock’s mind drifted. Pain crackled in his skull, but he focused his gaze on Dani’s face and smiled.

  Something’s wrong.

  Tears flooded her cheeks. Her fingernails pierced his arms. He frowned at her.

  “Honey, it’s all right. Don’t worry.” He reached for her face but the effort was too great. What the hell was wrong with him? Nausea catapulted into his windpipe, and he tried to shake off the buzzing noise in his ears as if it were an annoying gnat. It didn’t recede, so he stared at Dani’s mouth, reading her lips.

  “Brock, you’ve been shot!”

  He raised his hand to the searing pain at his head. Why the hell were his ears ringing so bad? And what was she screaming about? The bullet had torn through his shoulder and it hurt like a fucking bitch, but he wouldn’t die from it.

  But damn, the pain in his head was persistent. His ear ached, and he remembered the infection he’d had as a kid. He groped the side of his head and hot liquid coated his fingertips. When he brought his hand in front of his face, it shook.

  I’ve been shot in the head.

  The world tilted on its axis and Dani’s face drifted in and out of focus. Damn, he hated seeing her so sad. Using the last of his strength, he brushed his fingers over her cheek, smudging the milky white with a smear of red. Still so pretty. His heart ached. He’d never loved someone so much in his life and he hadn’t even told her that lately. The last three years had been the biggest waste of time—time he’d do anything to get back. So he could tell her how he felt.

  He pulled his lips into a smile even though it hurt like hell. “Dani, I love you. I’ve always loved you.” His racing heart slowed in his chest and his lower extremities tingled. “Don’t . . . cry . . .” The last word rode out on a breath and his hand fell to his chest like a ton of bricks. The squelching pain in his head became a du
ll throb, and his gaze drifted beyond Dani’s beautiful face to the bright fluorescent bulbs overhead.

  “No! Brock, please . . .” Her sob was the last thing he heard as darkness slowly blotted out his consciousness.

  CHAPTER 23

  The air-conditioning unit above her head coated her bare skin in cold, stale hospital air. It matched the icy terror rolling beneath her skin. She’d been in the waiting room for a couple hours already and she’d already been checked over and Rhett had been treated for his minor injuries. Dani rubbed her hands up and down her arms and stared at the French policeman even though her eyes kept darting in the direction of the hall. God, when would they get news on Brock’s status? The cop didn’t speak English very well. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the movement of his mouth and not the stench of black coffee on his breath.

  “I already told you,” she said, pacing her words so they wouldn’t lash out. “I stole the drive from Ubrigg Lichti. It was supposed to go to a rival company.”

  The policeman scribbled on his pad of paper. If she had to explain it to him one more time, she just might lose her shit. Either he was having a hard time grasping that she was a criminal by trade or he genuinely didn’t want to believe it.

  “Here.” Rhett approached the side of her chair and pushed a steaming cup of coffee into her hands. His right arm hung in a sling and he held another coffee in his dangling hand. His normally clean-shaven jaw sported stubble that was equally as dark as the hair on his head. Fatigue weighed down his stony eyes, which were rimmed by dark lashes that every girl would kill for. He patted the cop’s back and said something to him in French.

  The officer looked from her to Rhett then nodded and stood. Rhett dropped into the chair he’d vacated and kicked his heels up on the seat next to her.

  “What’d you say to him?”

  He shrugged. “That you’ve already answered to the US embassy and the FBI and we’d handle things from here. I think he was happy to be free of you to be honest.” He grinned and took a sip from his cup.