“I’ll be there.”
The line went dead and I lowered my phone to the bar, fighting the urge to smash it and follow it up with my fists the way Hennessy had with the door at the warehouse. I glanced at the wall I’d already punched. I hadn’t left a mark, but I would now. I would tear this place down with my bare hands if it would get her back, but right now I couldn’t afford to waste the energy. Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting Valentina back. And vengeance.
“What the fuck is going on?” Hennessy asked from beside me.
I had a decision to make. Go it alone, bringing half the cash and as many guys as I could assemble in the next two hours, or let Hennessy in on what was going down. I would do anything to get Valentina back quicker and safer. I knew the moment I told him the FNDs had her, he’d make this his problem and the problem of the NOPD.
I made my choice.
The FNDs would never expect a SWAT team.
I turned to Hennessy. “We’re going back to the station, and you’re gonna get that promotion you’ve been after because you’re gonna bust a drug ring and help me get my woman back.”
At the mention of Valentina, Hennessy’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell did you get her into now?”
“I’ll explain on the way.”
STAY STILL. DON’T BREAK.
The words repeated like a mantra in my head as my body shook and I dug my nails into my shins, willing my body to stay curled into the ball I’d wrapped myself in. I needed the pain.
Memories and flashbacks of that night bombarded me. The dark, deserted road. When he pulled off onto the shoulder. My questions. His hand across my face. The door wrenching open and my nails clawing at the seat as he dragged me out and threw me in the back, tearing at my clothes.
Tremors of fear rattled my teeth with their strength. Tears mixed with the dried blood on my face and hands. I was pathetic. Helpless. Useless. Defenseless.
I stared at the wall, seeing the scene replay over and over.
Smears of blood. Broken nails. I’d fought him, and it hadn’t helped.
My eyes constantly darted to the door.
Would they come? Would I fight?
I will survive. Even if I want to die.
I tried to find the strength I’d fought for all these years, but there was nothing left.
My mind shifted, dragging thoughts of Rix to the forefront. I wanted to be strong. Wanted to be the girl who could save herself. But I was foolish. Broken.
He can’t see me like this. I can’t take seeing the pity in his eyes. It would be worse than seeing it in Rhett’s. I couldn’t take it.
God, listen to yourself, Valentina. Stop.
The voices inside me were strong and adamant from both sides. The battle played out in my head as I waited silently with tears streaming down my face.
My sense of time was warped as I stayed curled into my ball. It could have been minutes or hours that had passed before I heard glass shatter, a crash, and men yelling.
Good guys? Or bad?
Weak threads of hope twined together in my belly.
“Go! Go! Go!”
Gunshots.
More yelling.
I squeezed into a smaller ball as doors slammed open.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs.
Oh shit.
“Clear!”
“Clear!”
Something rammed into the door, and the handle flew off on the inside.
I gripped my shins tighter, my gaze fixed on the door. Good guys or bad?
SWAT. It was the first thing I saw when the man in the black vest, helmet, and goggles charged through the doorway, his gun sweeping the room.
The good guys.
“Got her!” He lowered the gun, pressed an earpiece, and spoke quickly. “Hendrix, I’m bringing her out!” The man turned to me. “Come on, Ms. Noble. Let’s get you out of here. Hendrix will be happy as fuck to see you’re okay.”
Hendrix?
And okay? What was okay? Blood dripped from my face and my hands. It could always be worse. I nodded, my head bobbing. I was sort of okay.
But who was Hendrix? My brain struggled to free itself from survival mode, but I couldn’t answer my own swirling questions. Instead, I just latched onto the fact that he was one of the good guys.
The man helped me to my feet. One of my flip-flops was missing, but I didn’t care. I wanted out of this house. Right now.
“You want me to carry you, Ms. Noble?”
I shook my head and didn’t spit out the words I wanted to. Don’t touch me. Digging deep and grabbing hold of some fleeting reserve of strength, I followed him out of the room.
Bile rose in my throat at the dead bodies on the living room floor, blood seeping out around them into the beige carpet.
Tearing my gaze away, I searched for the door. Out. Now.
Men with SWAT vests swarmed the house, and confusion dogged my every step. Who called in the SWAT team?
One of the men slung his gun over his shoulder and rushed toward us. “Thank fuck,” he murmured as he grabbed me and pulled me into him.
I jerked back. “Don’t touch me,” I whispered, my voice harsh and broken.
He pulled away, his hands cupping my jaw before I could shove away. “I got you, duchess.”