Fool Me Once (First Wives #1)

Both women took the cue and left the room.

Sam ducked her head in. “Neil and Rick are going to get Danny out.”

“You’re sure?”

“They haven’t failed yet.”

“And Reed . . . where is he?”

Sam blinked a few times.

“Sam?”

“He’s there, too, Lori. On our side.”

Lori looked over to where Cooper stood by the window, his AR-15 held loosely in his arms.

Let them live . . . please, God, let them live.





Chapter Thirty-Five




He jumped out of the Jeep, running.

Sandwiched between a cardboard factory and a building warehousing something in the fashion industry sat the botanical warehouse Sasha identified as housing Danny. It was Sunday, and the unions did a great job of making sure work halted for the weekends. Outside of a few cars scattered around, there wasn’t any outside activity.

He felt the mist known as Sasha nearby.

He practiced evasive maneuvers in an effort to not give away his position as he moved from building to building. The sporadic windows of the botanical warehouse were close to the eaves of the two-story building. None of which were accessible to him . . . or anyone else.

He swept his eyes over the rooftops and didn’t see movement.

The massive door to the warehouse was open by an inch. Instead of considering that route, where he would have placed a guard if he were holding someone hostage, Reed looked for other options. The north side of the building presented itself.

Out of his wallet, he removed two pins—the click of the door being relieved from the lock sounded like a gun. He froze, fearful the sound had given away his position.

Deep breath.

Inside, the low hum of voices brought him forward.

“Say hello . . .”

“Screw you,” he heard Danny say.

Reed peered around a pallet of boxes containing glass vases. The woman he’d seen at Starbucks stood in front of Danny, who was tied to a chair. Two men approximately the size of baby elephants flanked him.

“Yes, yes . . . I have your little brother. I’m quite sorry about his nose.” The woman’s English accent caught his ear, but her words screwed with his heart. She was talking to Lori.

The desire to point, aim, and shoot was one of the hardest things he’d ever denied himself.

He moved to another row of pallets. His eyes moved to the eaves of the building. Sasha said there were three more men.

Where are you?

“So cooperative, perfect. All I need is a signed copy of the contract Samantha forgot to give me last week.” The woman’s voice turned away.

At this angle Reed saw Danny’s face. He had one eye open . . . and damn, that nose was going to hurt in the morning.

“Well, that and perhaps a copy of Katrina Petrov’s file. That would be gravy. Yes, I think your brother’s face can be spared further damage with the simple click of the mouse.”

He could hear the desperation in the woman’s voice.

“Well then, you might want to get there quickly. You have thirty minutes.”

Movement off the west eaves of the building captured his attention.

Holy shit.

He pushed against the back of a stack of boxes, causing the glass inside to rattle.

The room stilled.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the woman nod in his direction.

Reed turned to remove himself from the thugs’ path to find a gun pointed at his head.

He froze. The grip on his gun loosened.

“Move, asshole.”

Two things calculated in his brain at the same time. The man with the gun in his hand wasn’t in this for more than money, or else Reed would already be dead. Second . . . Sasha’s information was wrong, and Miss Wannabe Alliance Bride was working with more than two men. In his head, he added a plus one to Miss Bride’s list. Now the question was, where were Petrov’s men?

The man holding a gun to his head had a repaired cleft lip . . . and the surgeon had an eyesight issue. A foot to his back had him stumbling into the center of activity, surrounded by Danny’s bleeding face, two thugs, and a nervous woman with a gun.

“Well, look what we have here.”

“Reed?” Danny wasn’t focusing, Reed could see that by the way his eyes swam around in his head.

“That’s so sweet . . . you’re here to save the baby brother.”

“So full of yourself.” Danny’s words no sooner left his mouth than one of the men beside him punched him in it to shut him up.

Mr. Cleft Lip didn’t flinch when blood splattered his three-piece suit.

“Let him go,” Reed told her.

“Now why would I do that?”

“One hostage is all you need.” And if she untied Danny, the guy might stand a chance when the bullets started flying.

“Two is so much better.”

She signaled to the other man beside Danny, who, along with Mr. Cleft Lip, moved in and grasped his hands.

Tied down equaled death . . . and Reed wasn’t prepared to die.

Academy training erupted from the depths of his memory, he twisted his body, brought both hands around to capture the gun, and crashed into the man holding it. At the same time, shots fired from above and below.

The man beside him took a hit, flung back.

Reed had one linear focus.

Danny was a sitting duck at the county carnival, just waiting for someone to take the prize.

Lori’s brother focused just enough to grasp the situation and pushed his chair over with his feet. He hit the floor and Reed swiveled around.

Without a gun directed at his brain, he ducked low, grasped the backup gun from his leg, and moved toward Danny while shots rang out around him.

As he crawled, a bullet split through the leg of the chair, forcing him to look up.

He dodged left, avoided the heel of Cleft Lip’s shoe, and a shot rang out before Reed could swivel his weapon in the man’s direction. When Reed looked up, he saw the shape of a woman in tight, ninja-style black clothing blowing a kiss from the rafters.

Sasha.

Reed rolled out of range, leveled his gun to Cleft Lip’s chest, and froze as a bullet from behind him took the man down.

His pocketknife made quick work of the rope around Danny’s wrists before Reed dragged him behind a stack of boxes for shelter. He was out cold but had a strong pulse. The knock on his head when the chair hit the ground looked like the cause.

Away from the chaos, Reed looked up toward the ceiling. Two men, covered in black from head to toe, ducked in and out of sight.

The woman in charge lay in a river of her own blood, eyes wide and lifeless.

Cleft Lip was down and the other two men who had beat the shit out of Danny were shooting toward the front of the building.

“We need to get out of here,” Reed said to Danny.

A box above them became victim to a spray of bullets. Reed slapped the side of Danny’s face. “Danny, wake up.”

His head rolled on his shoulders.