No Mercy (35 page)

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Authors: Cheyenne McCray

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BOOK: No Mercy
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“Shut up, bitch.” Salvatore narrowed his gaze. “I told you, Dylan, call anyone off who’s here or

on their way.”

Joe was crouched on his haunches, as if waiting for his opportunity to lunge at Salvatore, who

didn’t seem to notice the dog.

Dylan slowly withdrew his cell phone and hit the speed dial number for Sofia.

Trace said in his heavy drawl, “No one here is messing around. You injure these women and

you and your men will pay the price.” There was steel behind his tone.

Salvatore ignored him.

Dylan had put his phone to his ear. Sofia answered and he said, “We have a situation at

Salvatore Reyes’s home. Reyes and one of his men are holding two hostages. Christie Reyes and

Belle Hartford. We need all agents to stand down immediately.”

“Shit. I’l call the FBI.” Sofia’s voice was ice cold. “The hostage rescue team wil be on its way.”

“Done, Salvatore.” Dylan lowered the phone as Sofia disconnected. “I’ve called them off.”

“Take that garbage bag out of the wastebasket and put all of my belongings into it.” Salvatore

nodded toward the desktop where everything had been laid out. “But first all of you drop your

weapons.”

“You know we can’t do that.” Dylan never wavered his aim. “This isn’t TV.” A law enforcement

officer never intentionally lost control of his or her weapon.

“No, it’s not TV.” Salvatore scowled as he stared at Dylan. “You have no options, Dylan. None

at all. You do what I say.”

“You shoot either one of them and you’re dead.” Dylan’s voice was low and cold. He realized

the open door behind Reyes and the other two men was probably an escape route that could go out

anywhere. If Reyes made it back behind that door with the women, things could be bad. Real bad.

“Do as I said.” Salvatore narrowed his eyes. “My things. Now.”

Dylan kept his weapon trained on Salvatore, never taking his gaze off the man as he pulled the

bag out of the wastebasket and set it on the desktop. One handed, he started putting the evidence-

bagged items into the larger garbage bag, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Hurry,” Salvatore said.

When the garbage bag was bulging, full of the findings from the safe, Salvatore relaxed his grip

on Christie. He released her neck but still kept the gun pointed at her head. He held out his free

hand. “Toss it here.”

Joe was clearly waiting for his opportunity to lunge at Salvatore. But the man had his gun pointed

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at Christie, his finger hovering over the trigger. If Joe went after the bastard, the dog could cause the

gun to go off and shoot Christie.

A distraction. Dylan needed something to take their attention from Christie and Belle. He hoped

what he planned to do was the right thing and that they were stupid enough to fall for it.

Dylan took the bag off the desk. “It’s all here.”

Salvatore’s eyes were greedy and triumphant.

“Here you go.” With a powerful upward swing, Dylan flung the garbage bag fil ed with Salvatore’s

items, aiming it between Jorge and Salvatore.

Both men reached for the bag to catch it, taking their eyes off of their victims.

With another snarl, Joe lunged at Salvatore.

The dog sank his teeth into Salvatore’s arm, forcing his aim down at the floor.

Salvatore screamed as the dog’s teeth penetrated his skin.

The gun went off.

Stillwater grunted with pain as the bullet slammed into the upper arm of her gun hand. Her gun

flew from her grip.

Joe drove Salvatore down.

Christie fell with Salvatore to the floor.

The German shepherd shook his head, digging his jaw into Salvatore’s arm.

Trace dove for Christie, grabbing her and rolling her away from Salvatore.

Trace pushed her behind him and put Rat in his gun sights. He took one shot and dropped the

bastard.

Joe shook Salvatore’s arm even harder and the gun flew from his hand.

The weapon spun across the floor toward Belle.

Salvatore tried to fight off Joe, but the dog’s grip was too tight.

At the same time Salvatore was going down, Jorge grabbed the bag in one hand.

Dylan shot Jorge, aiming for center mass.

The man moved a fraction before the bullet hit him, striking him in the right side.

Jorge cried out and dropped the bag, but still had hold of his weapon.

Belle scrambled out from beneath the desk and reached for Salvatore’s gun.

Her fingers closed around the grip.

Jorge turned his weapon on Dylan.

Dylan pulled the trigger again but Jorge had dropped to his knees, gun still aimed at Dylan.

Belle pointed Salvatore’s gun at Jorge. She squeezed the trigger.

Dylan took a third shot just as Belle took hers.

Both bullets hit Jorge, blood instantly soaking his clothes at his neck and his chest.

Jorge screamed but didn’t let go of his gun.

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Belle and Dylan both shot Jorge again.

He collapsed, face down, his gun falling from his hand.

Dylan rushed forward and kicked the gun across the room, far from Jorge. He kicked the gun

away from Rat, who lay still.

Jorge didn’t move. Dylan checked his pulse and found none. He rolled the man over and Jorge’s

eyes were wide and sightless. Dylan checked Rat for a pulse. None.

Belle had Salvatore’s gun stil trained on Jorge. Her hands were shaking but her aim was good.

“Put down the gun, Belle,” Dylan said.

Visibly trembling, she laid the gun on the floor.

Dylan wanted to go to her but had to deal with Salvatore, who was still screaming.

Brooks was holding back Trace, who looked like he wanted to kill Salvatore.

Dylan approached Salvatore. Joe released the bastard when Dylan grabbed him by his collar.

With everything he had, Dylan slammed his fist into Salvatore’s face. Blood poured from

Salvatore’s nose, over his mouth and chin. Tears flushed from his eyes from the pain.

Dylan started to hit Salvatore again, but Stillwater grabbed his arm with her good hand.

“Let the courts put him behind bars.” Stil water gripped Dylan’s arm tighter. “I want to see him

rot in prison.”

Dylan lowered his arm and shoved Salvatore away from him. Salvatore stumbled back and fell

on his backside. Still shaking with rage, Dylan leaned down and grabbed Salvatore by his collar

again and dragged him to his feet.

The desire to hit Salvatore again was so strong that Dylan almost did. Instead, he turned away,

leaving Salvatore with Stillwater and another agent who had walked in. Apparently backup had

arrived and had taken care of whoever had attacked the house while Salvatore and his men came

in from the hidden bookcase entrance.

Behind him he heard Christie. Her voice trembled, but she said clearly, “I wil testify against

Salvatore about all I know of what he’s said and done. He kil ed a man right in front of me.”

Dylan walked to Belle who was standing now and staring down at the body of the man she’d

help shoot.

She looked at Dylan, shock on her face. “Did I kil him?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dylan took her in his arms and drew her stiff body close. “We both shot him.

He won’t hurt anyone ever again.”

Belle clung to him, a sob escaping her. “He deserved it, but to kil a man…”

“Shhh, precious.” Dylan rocked her. “You helped save all of our lives. Without your help, things

could have gone bad, very bad.”

Her body relaxed and she tilted her tear-stained face to look at him. “I love you, Dylan. I love

you so much.”

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“I love you, too.” He kissed her gently on her lips before drawing back and looking into her eyes.

“I’m never going to let you forget it. I wil never let you leave me behind again.”

***

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***

Belle’s stomach churned as she brushed her hair and thought about what she was about to do.

She thought she was going to be sick.

No, she couldn’t let him have that power over her.

She didn’t want to do it. But she had to. She knew it was the only way she’d ever find true peace.

She wanted every part of her free of the past so she could move on and face the future without

emotional baggage.

With a sigh, she set down her hairbrush by the sink. She held her breath as she used the

hairspray then slowly let her breath out as she put the can next to the brush.

It had been three days since Salvatore had been arrested. Tomorrow the sick bastard would be

appearing before a federal magistrate judge in Tucson. It would take some time for the case to go to

court, but eventual y he’d face a jury and she was certain it would not be a good end for him.

In addition, there was the chance that he would be considered a flight risk. Not only due to his

business and personal relations in Mexico, but also the fake passports that had been found. He had

clearly already been planning something. The feds were working on tracing money Salvatore had in

offshore accounts now, thanks to the ledgers. If he wasn’t granted bail, Salvatore could very well

await trial in prison for as long as it took.

The FBI had whisked Christie away into protective custody until she could testify against

Salvatore in federal court. Belle hadn’t seen her since the day Salvatore was arrested. Apparently

there had been death threats against her that the FBI was taking seriously. The threats could have

come from the Jimenez Cartel or Salvatore himself, but whatever the case, Christie’s life could be in

danger.

Belle adjusted the turtleneck sweater she wore as she looked into the mirror. It hid the remnants

of the bruises on her neck that had yellowed in the days since she’d nearly been strangled. The

traces were almost gone, but she didn’t like to see the leftover marks.

The fact that the rest of the CoS and their families were safe now was such an incredible relief.

It was like she’d been anchored to a cement block in the middle of a lake through everything that

had happened. Now she was above the surface of the water and free, breathing in the sweet, fresh

air.

When she thought about Nate and Tom, however, the sadness was deep and profound, a

heaviness in her soul that wouldn’t ever fully go away. She was grateful Marta was awake now, and

according to the doctors, should make a full recovery.

Belle put on her coat that had been lying on Dylan’s bed. In moments she would step out into

the cold with him and make the journey to Tucson. It was a journey she knew she had to take to fully

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heal.

G.I. Joe was back with Leon and his family. The dog seemed happy to be with Leon’s kids,

appearing to have adopted them as his own instead of the other way around.

The memorial for Tom would be tomorrow. The remaining members of the CoS would be able

to scatter Nate’s ashes over the ridge, too, with the exception of Marta who was stil in the hospital

recovering, and Christie who was in protective custody. Belle, Dylan, and Leon had sworn to stay in

touch. Belle knew that Christie would, too, after the trial, as well as Marta once she was out of the

hospital.

Absently, Belle pulled her hair out of the collar of her jacket and let it fall down the back of the

coat. She took a deep breath and faced the bedroom door. Dylan was waiting for her in the kitchen.

Salvatore was likely going to go to prison for a long time. Hopefully he’d be there forever. Once

Christie testified to the murder she had witnessed, and all that she had heard him state about the

murders he’d contracted for everyone in the CoS, that should be enough to put the nails in his coffin.

The clues Nate had left had finally paid off. The key to the passwords was inside the front cover

of one of the ledgers in Nate’s handwriting, just like he’d said.

Just two numbers and two symbols, and then the first two letters of the incorrect word, had to

be used and each folder on the memory card opened when the passwords were keyed in.

The folders had been filled with documents, receipts, money trails, payoffs, and other crucial

information.

There was even old proof that her stepfather had been paid off for murdering Dylan’s dad.

Her stepfather.

She closed her eyes. It was now or never.

~~*~~

Belle waited in the hard plastic seat to be called in. Dylan sat next to her, holding her hand,

anchoring her.

She looked at the face she loved so much and smiled. “Thank you for being here with me.”

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