Elude (25 page)

Sleep.

God, I'd do anything for sleep — for hydration.

Petrov pulled out a chair and snapped his fingers. The door opened again.

Water.

I moaned.

"Ah, see?" Petrov took the pitcher of water and poured it into the glass that accompanied it. "See how I take care of what is mine?"

He lifted the water to his lips and sipped, droplets fell down his large chin onto his chest. "It's very fresh. Cold."

My breathing was erratic; I couldn't focus on anything but the water. The drops he was wasting… the drops I would lick off him if I could just reach… That was all I needed in life — two drops of water.

"She betrayed you," he said as he slowly dumped water from the pitcher onto the floor.

"No!" I screamed.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Y-yes." I hung my head. The zap didn't come, but neither did sleep; instead, a frenzied madness took its place. "Yes!" I lifted my head. "The bitch betrayed me."

Petrov rose, his knees cracked as he held the water to my lips. "And what are you going to do about it?"

I met his glare. "I'm going to kill them all."

Andi

"NIXON!" I YELLED INTO MY CELL PHONE
as it went to voicemail yet again. "Answer your damn phone!"

I hit the accelerator harder, ready to ram the gate that led into his house. Dying before my time wouldn't help Sergio. I rubbed my head where I'd been hit; the bruise looked horrific. It had probably caused brain damage, but I couldn't think of that right now.

Sergio had been taken…

By my father.

And I was going to get him back even if it killed me — or if I needed to kill my own flesh and blood to do so.

The stupid-ass idiot who'd knocked me out had tied my hands and feet together and stuffed me in a closet then dropped what felt like a hundred pounds of clothes on top of me…

I wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish, other than suffocating me, but once I had fought through the clothes I had a new problem.

How was I going to get to a phone?

By the time I managed to kick down the closet door, I was exhausted. My sickness wasn't allowing any sort of Xena-warrior-princess tendencies. Instead, I turned on my side and puked.

When I was done tossing my guts I inched and hopped down the hall. He'd put me in the farthest room in the house — a million miles away from a phone.

When I passed the upstairs' study, I noticed that it was already starting to get dark again.

How long had I been out?

The pain in my ass was intense; bruises would cover my body by the time I made it to the phone.

I had no concept of time — only that I had to call Nixon… or find a knife.

When I reached Sergio's room, I nearly burst into tears. No phone. They'd taken all communication from his room. No cells, nothing.

Knife. I needed a knife.

Or a machete.

Another few hours, and I was at the stairway.

It was going to hurt. But time wasn't on my side. Gritting my teeth, I rolled to my hip and tucked my head toward my chest, causing myself to roll down the stairs. Each stair bit into me. I held my scream in — I wouldn't scream, I wouldn't focus on me. Only him, the man I loved.

I was going to save Sergio…

And put a bullet between my father's eyes.

He was trying to start a war, and I was going to be the one to end it, after I cut off his head and put it on a freaking spike.

I hit the bottom floor hard. Something cracked in my wrist as I tried to catch myself. Ignoring the jarring pain radiating down my arm, I inched into the kitchen and located the knife drawer.

With a wince, I leaned back and kicked my legs up. The drawer slowly opened. I kicked out harder. One final kick, and the drawer fell to the ground.

I'd never been so happy to see a machete…

"Nixon!" I honked my horn for the fifth time. I was driving one of Sergio's cars and doing a crap job of it, if the scratches on the sides were any indication.

I pressed the buzzer to the gate again.

"What the hell, Sergio?" the voice barked on the other end.

"He's been taken!" I yelled frantically. "Nixon, let me in, or so help me God, I'm going to use Sergio's machete to cut out your heart and feed it to you!"

The gate opened.

I hit the floor with the accelerator and barely put it into park when Nixon and Trace came running out of the house.

Nixon helped me out of the car. His eyes took in my appearance. "Shit, Trace, call the guys now."

He threw a phone at her; she caught it mid-air and started dialing, not missing a beat.

Nixon didn't say anything else; he simply lifted me into his arms and carried me inside the house. I knew if I relaxed, the pain would be worse. If I stopped freaking out, the stress would stop protecting me, the adrenaline would stop, and I'd feel all the broken parts of me. Rigid, I waited until we were in the house, until he set me down.

And then I started screaming.

Trace's eyes widened briefly before she ran out of the room, returning minutes later with a syringe.

"No!" I held up my hands. "No drugs. Let me feel the pain."

Nixon cursed and kicked the couch. "Have you seen yourself?"

"No." I shook my head violently. "Don't want to. We need to go get Sergio, now."

Nixon checked his watch. "Shit, they need to drive faster."

"Nixon…" I pleaded, tears in my eyes, "…my father has him."

Nixon's eyes narrowed. He leaned over my body, his face menacing, so frightening it was like staring into the depths of hell. "If you double-crossed him, I'll be the one cutting your heart out, princess — while you're breathing."

"No!" I slammed my hands against his chest. "I would never. I LOVE HIM!"

Trace joined me on the couch and grabbed my hand. "Nixon, she wouldn't."

"How the hell are we supposed to know that?" Nixon kicked the couch again then reached for his gun and pointed it at me. "You've left me no choice."

I closed my eyes and hung my head.

The gun never went off.

I opened one eye then two.

"A liar would fight for her life." Nixon lowered the gun.

"Or maybe I just don't value my life anymore — but I do value
his —
and I promise you I'll kill my father before you get the chance."

"If I suspect anything—" Nixon pointed the gun back at my face. "—I end you."

"Deal." I exhaled.

The door opened. Tex stormed in followed by Frank, Mil, Chase, and Phoenix.

"What the hell happened to you?" Tex glanced between me and Nixon.

"Sergio," I choked. "Petrov took him."

"Not you?" Tex's eyes narrowed. "Swear on my unborn child I will chop off that pretty blond head of yours if you double-crossed him."

I sighed. "Look this is getting old. Nixon's already threatened me. I get it. You guys actually like him, which is a giant shock to me, considering you haven't even visited."

Tex gritted his teeth hard. "You don't know shit."

"Oh yeah?" I was picking a fight with a giant. I knew it, but I didn't care. I was too upset; all my feelings were boiling to the surface. I was helpless to stop them.

"Girls…" Chase stood between us. "…stop. This is about Sergio. Time's wasting."

"Any idea where they took him?" Mil asked, voice calm, demeanor rigid.

I shook my head; that small movement hurt every bone in my body. "No idea."

"His phone on?" This from Frank.

I rolled my eyes. "No offense, but I'm not stupid. I've already tried to use the GPS locater."

Phoenix cleared his throat. "The listening device in the hand."

"What about it?" I shrugged.

Phoenix's eyes met mine. "Sergio put the listening device in. He also put a locator in it, remember? My money's on Petrov taking Sergio to his compound on the lake."

I nodded. "Well, how do we turn the thing on? Our resident nerd has been captured!"

Nixon rushed out of the room and returned with an iPad Mini. His fingers worked smoothly across the surface, his eyes frantically searching the screen until they stopped. "Got him."

"That easy?" I was dumbfounded. What the hell kind of technology did they have?

Nixon flipped the screen around and pointed to a green dot. "The hand is still at the same location. There's no way of knowing if Sergio is actually in the same location. The transmission from the watch wasn't functioning properly, and we were unable to gain any useful information."

I blew out an exhale between my cheeks. "Okay, so what are you saying?"

The room fell silent.

"No." I shook my head violently. "No. I'll go myself if I have to."

Tex cursed under his breath. "Sergio wouldn't want you to."

"The hell he wouldn't!" I yelled, though in my heart I knew there was truth to what Tex was saying. "I'm going after him."

"Think about it." Tex held up his hands. "We all go. We storm the compound, and he's there… How many men do you think are holed up inside? At least twenty — maybe more. Say he's not there, and it's a trap. Petrov gets all our heads on a platter."

My legs felt weak; I crumpled onto the couch and put my head in my hands. "We can't just leave him."

Mil walked over to me and leaned down. "Think logically about this, Andi. If you were in his position, what would you do?"

I lifted my head, my eyes blurring with tears. "Or you can think of it this way. If it was Tex in that house, what would you do?"

Mil's nostrils flared. "Storm the freaking castle and get my man."

"Right." I stood. "Thanks, boys, but I think I'm going to go with my own plan. Firearms?"

Nobody moved.

"I said…" I yelled. "…firearms? At least arm me before I go marching off into enemy territory."

Tex nodded at Nixon, but Nixon didn't budge. He stared at me, hard, like he was trying to figure me out, like he couldn't figure me out.

Tears filled my eyes. If there was a way to open up my chest and show him my heart, show him how desperately I needed Sergio, if only for a few short weeks before I left this earth, I would.

He nodded slowly then tilted his head. I followed him down a large hallway. We stopped at what I thought was the door to the garage; instead, he opened the door and then another immediately to his left. We went down a flight of stairs.

Lights flickered on.

Holy super-hero sanctuary, Batman.

Rifles lined one wall.

Nice rifles.

The kind you pay a lot of money for.

Knives, daggers, machetes — all hanging from the opposite wall.

Nixon pressed another button; another door opened. Right. Another door.

Inside that room were semi-automatic guns, tear gas, bullet proof vests, C-4, scuba equipment, and a few terrifying looking contraptions that reminded me of every single historical romance I'd read that had talked about medieval torture.

"I'd start with the tear gas." He threw a few cans at me then pulled out a duffel bag. "…then the smoke." He tossed something else into the bag. "Once the smoke clears and the fire alarms go off, the sprinkler system will be activated." He sighed and grabbed two semi-automatics. "You'll have five minutes, maybe six, before men start running to your location. You'll either need to fight or create another diversion so you can search the house."

"Or…" I reached for one of the guns. "…I kill all but one, torture him, then find out where Sergio is."

"Too much time, Andi. You won't make it."

"Watch me."

"Andi…" Nixon's hand closed over the gun. "…this is a suicide mission. You get that, right? Chances of him coming out of there alive are next to zero. We don't know how Petrov works. We've never been to his compound. Hell, we don't even know if he's there. This could all be for nothing."

I jerked the gun away. "I have to try. Besides, I'm Russian. We live for zero odds. Makes the victory that much sweeter."

Nixon smirked, dropping his head. "Shit, Trace is going to kill me."

"Why?"

He grabbed a vest and put it over his head. "I'm his boss. I'm also his cousin. I go in with you, or you don't go in at all."

"The hell you will!"

He pushed me back, actually pushed me. "That's right." He nodded. "I have no issue with pushing you, punching you, shooting you. You're my equal, and he's my family. I go in, or we don't go at all. Those are your options."

"I could just dropkick your ass."

"Sweetheart…" Nixon licked his lips, another smirk forming. "…I'd really like to see you try."

I backed away then turned around, trying to trip him with the back of my leg. I was out of practice and already severely wounded, so it wasn't surprising at all that he'd seen it coming a mile away. He gripped me by the ankle and flipped my entire body onto the ground then hovered over me; a gun pressed to my chin. "Keep wasting my time. See what I do. See how far I'll go."

I nodded; the tip of the gun was cold against my skin. "Fine, but we do it my way."

"Not surprised
,
you're shit at taking directions anyway." He got off the ground and held out his hand. "Oh, and don't tell the others. They'll just follow. We go out the back, we take—"

"Dibs on the Chiappa shotgun. That bad boy hasn't been used yet, and I plan to get dirty." Chase burst into the room and reached for a vest.

"What are you doing?" Nixon asked in a calm voice.

"We had a family meeting while you were in here being all self-sacrificial." Chase shrugged. "I know you, Nixon. You wouldn't let her go on her own. Where you go I follow. It's kind of the deal since we're brothers from another father. Ha! Get it?"

Nixon clenched his jaw. "Chase—"

"Make sure they all have silencers. We don't want nosey neighbors calling the cops on us." Tex entered the room followed by Frank and Mil.

Mil was already grabbing knives and strapping them to her leg.

Mo followed and then Trace.

"Wait." I held up my hands. "What's going on?"