Too Hot to Hold (28 page)

“You’re getting complacent in your old age, Clutch—a couple of years ago you would’ve seen the trap I set for you a mile away. Or maybe it’s just love that’s got you soft.”

“You bastard.” Sarah tried to lunge for him and got a swift jab in the ribs for her efforts.

Clutch stood, his body still unsteady from the sleeping gas. “You leave her alone. She’s got nothing to do with this.”

“She’s got everything to do with this.”

“Where are the others?” Clutch asked.

“By now, they’re probably dead. That’s if they’re lucky. If not, they’re bleeding out someplace,” Caspar told him.

“Why the hell would you kill them?”

“I was ordered to. GOST is officially over.”

“Then why not let us walk away?”

Caspar laughed. “You’re too much of a liability.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do to us,” Sarah said. “The story’s already been sent. You’re too late.”

“The only ones it’s too late for are you two.”

Clutch wanted him to be wrong, even got his hopes up when he heard movement behind the door. But two men he’d never seen before emerged. No doubt ex-military—
ex
in every sense of the word. Washouts, just like Caspar himself was rumored to be, from what little information Clutch had been able to collect on the man who’d ruined his life.

Rumors aside, Clutch had seen the type too many times not to recognize it immediately, had known it from the second he’d met with John Caspar all those years ago. That feeling had grown stronger when they’d met again a few months before this, when Caspar promised him that Sarah would be safe if Clutch went back into GOST willingly.

Yes, there was weakness in Caspar, and for the first time, Clutch felt his edge come back.

It was short-lived, as the two men dragged Kaylee with them. Immediately, one put a gun to her head and a knife to her throat while the other walked over and took Caspar’s place, holding a gun to Sarah’s head.

Caspar moved toward Clutch, motioned him to turn around to face both women at once. Clutch seethed, but did as Caspar ordered, letting the man get close until he could feel the gun pressed between his own shoulder blades.

“What a choice—if you don’t kill the woman who tried to save you, we’ll have to kill the woman you love.”

Clutch felt calmer than he had in years, more in control, even as his Ranger and Delta Force training kicked in. Being a merc had been different—required slightly different skills. But this … this he could do. “You won’t let me go after I do that.”

“Are you willing to take that chance? Suppose I leave you alive to mourn Sarah. Or suppose I kill you and keep Sarah for myself.” Caspar whispered now, so only he and Clutch could hear. “I could’ve had her, so many times. She was lonely. Lost. She’d have been willing.”

Clutch jerked but the barrel of the gun kept him from doing much. “Why did you kill the others and leave me alive?”

“You were always the strongest, the one I counted on the most.”

Clutch snorted. “Just let me go, John. Once the article’s printed—”

“It won’t get printed. GOST might be ending, but its existence will never be brought to light, I can promise you that. We’ll do whatever is necessary to stop it.” Caspar’s hand was steady as he pressed his Sig into Clutch’s back, right between the shoulders, but angled so the bullets would go straight through flesh to his heart.

“You can’t hurt my boss, my friends at the paper.” Kaylee struggled in her bonds as she stared at Clutch and past him to Caspar.

“Haven’t you figured it out already, Kaylee? I can do anything I want.” Caspar laughed, a hollow sound without a shred of humor. “I’m in control here. I’m the one pulling the strings. You got yourself involved in something you shouldn’t have.”

“You took Aaron—you forced him into this group and you used me against him, so yes, I’m involved the way I should be.” She tried to jerk away from the man who held her but couldn’t, yet didn’t seem afraid of the knife or the gun. No, she was running on pure anger. “And if I find out that you’ve hurt Nick—”

“What will you do, Kaylee?” Caspar sneered. “Write about it? That’s just words, little girl. No one’s going to believe you. Or maybe they just won’t care about a bunch of washed-up soldiers.”

“Who are you?” she demanded as the man who’d held her tethered her to a chair. He used heavy tape around her wrists. “Are you one of them? Are you in Witness Protection too?”

Caspar didn’t answer her, but Clutch felt the man hesitate, just for a second.

“I’ve made my decision,” Clutch told him. He pressed his hands together and then fisted them, cracking his knuckles. And as he advanced and closed his fingers around her throat, Kaylee looked up at him in horror.

This wasn’t happening.

Kaylee kept waiting for Nick to crash through the door, the window, anywhere to stop it even as Clutch’s hands pressed her windpipe. Caspar was still behind him with a gun to his back.

Clutch meant to kill her, and yet, she couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t. Looking up into his practically colorless eyes, she didn’t see anything but kindness.

Don’t stop now
, he mouthed even as he pressed, just enough to make her breath sound harsh—enough to make Caspar believe he’d started the job.
Witness Protection
.

Kaylee stayed as still as she could while trying desperately to free her wrists from the heavy tape. But at Clutch’s words, she knew exactly what she needed to do. “You’re not safe either, John Caspar. Aka James Roy. Born Alfred J. Kingston. Put into Witness Protection in 1992 after your father testified against a high-ranking member of an underground crime syndicate. You grew up as scared as the rest of the members of GOST. You were one of them until the government made you the monster you are now. How does it feel to turn against your own kind?”

Caspar froze, stared at Kaylee as Clutch’s hands eased from her throat.

“I hope you don’t mind, but that information’s in the article too,” she continued, grateful that Jamie had texted her the details on Caspar in time for Kaylee to text her boss. They would make a welcome addition to the article. “I refused to use Clutch’s real name—or any of the other’s—but yours seemed fair game. From what I heard, that particular crime family would be interested in knowing that you’ve still got all the evidence against them, and that you’d be happy to testify.”

Two shots rang out in quick succession. Seconds later, she heard a loud thump from behind her, felt the weight of the man who’d tied her up initially as he fell against her. She had no way to balance herself and the chair shifted and tipped along with the man’s body.

She saw stars as her head hit the ground, but remained mercifully conscious—or maybe she’d have rather not watched what was about to unfold.

The second shot had hit the man who’d been standing near Sarah—he lay half on top of the prone woman, her hands and feet tied. But Sarah kicked her way out from under him as both she and Kaylee tried to see who’d fired the shots.

“It’s all falling apart, John. I’m not sure why you thought it could last this long anyway.” A woman’s voice—softness wrapped with a steel edge—floated across the room from a doorway in the far eastern corner.

Her back was straight and she wore her hair in a long braid that hung in a dark strip over one shoulder. She held a rifle steadily in her hands as she moved slowly but unrelentingly toward John Caspar.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Caspar told her, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“I know. You did your best to make sure of that—none of the others survived the crash. None except for me.” She held the gun on him. “Did you think you could train us and not expect us to turn on our owners? Especially when they turn on us?”

“You have no idea what you’re up against, PJ. None of you ever did. Do you really think letting the world know about GOST will free you?”

“I’ll never be free anyway,” the woman answered cryptically.

Clutch still stood ramrod straight. The entire room seemed to be stuck in some kind of hazy time warp, or maybe it was just Kaylee—pain and fear and adrenaline mixing together to keep her completely off balance.

But now Caspar seemed that way too—he still held the gun on Clutch, but was so mesmerized by the woman that he didn’t hear Nick come up behind him and put his hands around his throat.

The next moments were like lightning—full-on technicolor—and Kaylee could barely hear over the yelling.

Caspar bucked against Nick’s hold—it wasn’t enough to shake him off but all three men still went down to the ground in the struggle.

She heard one shot, and then another, and could only watch helplessly as the men rolled on the ground.

Nick heard the shots. He knew he was risking Clutch being wounded when he’d grabbed Caspar, but he’d yanked at the man hard enough that he’d hoped Caspar would lose his grip entirely.

No such luck, but he still wasn’t letting go. He put enough pressure against the man’s windpipe, heard the last desperate gasps for air even as Clutch managed to crawl out from underneath them on his back, blood from his shoulder smearing across the floor.

Nick wasn’t sure if he wanted John Caspar dead—if the man was alive, he could talk, could maybe help to free Clutch more quickly than Kaylee’s article. Kaylee, who was down on the floor, trying desperately to free herself from the chair she was tied to—it had been all he could do not to run to her when she’d fallen, but he’d remained in place, waiting for the right time to take down Caspar.

And now, even as he tried to decide the man’s fate, Clutch was pulling at him. “He’s mine,” he said, teeth bared as he stared at Caspar. When Nick let go, Clutch’s hands replaced his on the man’s neck.

“Thanks for teaching me how to do this so efficiently,” Clutch told Caspar. “I knew it would come in handy one of these days.”

Nick was close enough to hear the snap as Clutch broke the other man’s neck. Caspar’s gun fell from his hand to the floor with a clatter—Clutch remained with his hands on Caspar’s neck, until Nick gently pulled him away.

“You’re hurt, man. Come on, it’s over. He’s gone,” Nick told him. He eased Clutch to a sitting position, unable to do anything but help the wounded man even as he saw the woman with the dark hair move to untie Sarah and then Kaylee.

“It’s not over, not yet,” Clutch croaked. He was pale as shit, and Nick knew he spoke the truth. It would be days—maybe longer—before the impact of both Caspar’s death and the article were truly known.

“It’s better than it was,” Nick assured him. “Lay on your side—I’ve got to stop this bleeding.”

Clutch nodded, shifted his body so Nick could rip off what was left of his shredded, bloodied shirt and saw the two entrance holes through his upper shoulder.

“Kaylee, are you all right?” Nick asked as he continued to check Clutch.

“I’m fine,” she told him as Sarah and the dark-haired woman helped her to sit up against the wall. “Help Clutch, please.”

“Someone’s coming,” Clutch said, attempted to draw his weapon, until they heard someone calling Nick’s name.

“It’s my brother. Chris, we’re okay!” he called out the opened door, heard the clatter of footsteps and then his brother was in the room, followed by a woman Nick assumed was the FBI agent.

Within seconds, Nick and Clutch were surrounded by Chris and Sarah and Jamie.

“I’ve got Clutch,” Chris said. “You’re okay?”

“Fine. Just fine.” He rubbed his bloody hands on his pants.

He stood and went over to where Kaylee sat, in the corner, propped against the wall. She’d taken a good hit to her head when she’d fallen, but she managed a small smile even as he dropped to his knees in front of her. “Kaylee” was all he could manage for a second while his hands traveled over her face then to the egg-sized lump at her temple.

“I’m okay, really.” She reached up to take his hands in hers.

And still, Nick’s protective instincts were in overdrive. “Did he hurt you when he took you away? Did he touch you? Tell me.”

“No, he didn’t. I’m just shaken. But he hurt you—I heard it, saw it.” Her voice broke for a second and then she swallowed, tried to remain stoic.

He didn’t answer her—not with words. Instead, he simply gathered her into his arms for a few moments, holding her tight against him.

When he pulled back, her eyes were wet. “How is Clutch? There’s so much blood…”

“He’ll be okay.” He turned to see Chris working on him. “I should go help.”

“Go.” Kaylee gave him a gentle push. “We didn’t come this far to have GOST win.”

———

Kaylee finally pulled herself up off the floor after Nick left her side to help Chris put Clutch up on a table. Jamie was going back and forth with clean towels and warm water, while Sarah remained at Clutch’s side. Kaylee could clearly see the pain and worry etched on her face.

She approached the table cautiously. There was still so much blood, even as Chris put pressure on Clutch’s back with a firm hand and a towel that had once been white but was now soaked with red.

“I can get the bullets out, but you need to go to a hospital,” Chris was telling Clutch. “I don’t have enough IV antibiotics to cover you. You’ll need a full round. You’ll need surgery to make sure I’ve gotten all the shrapnel out. You’ll also need a transfusion.”