Carter Reed

“Agh!”


Mike whirled. I went with him. We both saw a man behind us on the ground. Carter had shot him. Blood seeped from his forehead and his gun fell to the ground.

“Get her out of here!”

“Sir?”

Carter had sprinted back. He waved us off. “Get her out of here. Now.”

Mike threw me inside and flung himself next to me. I was pushed to the ground before I realized what was going on and the car sped off.

“No!” I tried to get up. “Carter!”

The hand on my head tightened. I was held in place. He had half of his body over mine and he yelled in my ear, “He’ll be safe.”

“Carter!”

Mike shook his head next to mine. His voice softened. “He’ll be safe, Emma. He wants you to be safe more than him.”

“No!” I tried to claw at his arm. I needed to get free and get back to Carter. “We left him behind.”

“No.” He shook his head again. Both of his arms came around me now. “There’s another car. He’ll come with that car.”

We had gone too far. I knew I couldn’t get back to him so I listened to what he said. Carter would come with the next car. He had to. Everything would be fine, but as we went back to Carter’s home, I looked down. The gun was still in my hand.

Carter watched as two cars sped away with Emma in the back. She was safe. He kept telling himself that. She was safe. He needed to make sure there were no others and he was one of the best. He was needed there, not with her. Not yet.

There was a third car, and he sprinted over to it. The driver had been shot and slumped over the steering wheel, sounding the horn. Carter pulled his body back to silence it. Then he sensed movement in the back seat and ripped out a struggling man. The man swung his arm around, trying to aim his gun at Carter but it was knocked away. The man kicked out. That was blocked as well. He swung his other leg at him, but was pinned to the car. He couldn’t do a thing but glare at his captor.

Carter stared at him. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t blink. His eyes were blank. They were ice-cold blue.

Gene hurried over. The taller, older man stopped and glanced around. He stroked his jaw. “That was the first hit.”

“I’m aware.” Carter glared at him. He threw the man to one of their guards and crossed to kick at one of the unconscious men. When he was rewarded with a moan, he hauled the guy up and threw him against a wall. “Who leaked her location?”

“We can interrogate them at the warehouse.”

“No!”

“Carter.” Gene stepped forward, placing a hand on his associate’s tense shoulders. “We will do this. Go to your woman. Make sure she’s okay.”

Carter knew he was right. Gene was always right. It was annoying. However, while he would normally ignore the unwanted advice, he listened this time. He remembered Emma’s face and how pale she had gone when she was lifted into the car.

He reached down, wound his arms around the struggling man, and snapped his neck. As he stood, Gene stepped back and asked him, “Did that make you feel better?”

“No.” He glanced up, an impassive mask over his face. “We leave for Chicago tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

Carter didn’t answer.

Gene sighed, “There’s another issue.”

Carter snapped his gaze to his friend. His jaw clenched as he waited.

“The boyfriend went back.”

Carter’s shoulders grew even more rigid. “Tell me he went for money.”

“There was no money with him. They’re getting him hooked. They can control him better that way, if they still need him.”

A savage curse came out, but Carter couldn’t do anything about that. He repeated instead, “We go to Chicago tomorrow.”

Gene never questioned him again.

“And call Noah. I don’t want her going to New York. It’s not safe.”

Two of his other men had pulled up on motorcycles. He gestured for one to step off, and he climbed on. He turned the bike around and went home.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The car sped into the basement, and Mike carried me through a door. It opened to the gym, and we kept going until we were in the kitchen. After he sat me down in the middle of the room, he swept it. Four more men followed and they went in opposite directions. They were checking the perimeter.

I couldn’t form a thought, much less a decision, so I stayed and swayed on my feet.

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

I glanced around the kitchen and croaked out, “Clear in here.”

Someone laughed somewhere in the building, but all seemed quiet as they filtered down to the kitchen area. Nope, only three of them did. Two were missing.

Mike said, “They took point outside your elevator.”

Oh. Of course. The elevator. Couldn’t forget the elevator.

“Emma.”

I turned. It was Mike speaking to me. Why was he the only one that ever spoke to me?