Unwritten (14 page)

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Authors: Tressie Lockwood

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Multicultural, #Multicultural & Interracial

BOOK: Unwritten
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She jumped to her feet. “I want to go.”

“No.”

“But you might need me.”

“To do what?”

Evie folded her arms across her chest. “Is Meghan going to be there?”

“She’s a trained agent. I don’t know if she’s been asked to assist or not. What I know is you’re not going. End of discussion. Unfortunately, since I have to get moving, I can’t wait for someone else to get here to look after you. So keep the door locked.”

She sighed and kissed him as he left. “Okay, but please be careful, and come home to me.”

His eyes sparkled, and the sideways grin made her heart do flip-flops. “Nothing will keep me from coming home to you now that you’re back.”

Chapter Ten

 

Kian stepped out of his vehicle and approached Taggert. He scanned the building ahead of them and then the group of uniformed officers and agents surrounding them. When his gaze came across Meghan, he frowned and changed course to approach her. “What are you doing here?”

A flash of affection in her eyes rubbed him the wrong way, and he ground his jaw. His foolish decisions had led to this woman having a permanent stake in his life. Evie should be the mother of his kids, not Meghan. He’d screwed up bad, but he wouldn’t toss away the gift that had been given him in Evie’s forgiveness.

“I’m working, just like you,” Meghan said.

He could tell she wanted to say more, maybe even talk to him about the baby, but the scowl on his face must have kept her silent. Kian examined her form from her breasts to her hips to her belly. She’d gain some weight, but at the time, he never minded. He’d thought a fuller figure was more flattering. Now he knew why since Meghan had always prided herself on being healthy and strong for the job. His gaze rested again on her belly, and something inside softened. His child. He could beat himself up a hundred times a day, but it didn’t change the fact that he was overjoyed to have a child.

“You need to hang back and take it easy,” he ordered. “In fact, ask the boss to put you on desk duty for a while.”

Megan pursed thin lips. “I can take care of myself, Kian.”

“This is not just about you,” he snapped.

They glared at each other for long moments, until voices from the other officers distracted him. He recalled why he was there and got his head in the game. Today, if it killed him, he would free Evie from the prison she’d been held in the last few weeks while they tried to recapture her cousin. No more. He swung away from Meghan, dismissing her from his thoughts, and approached Taggert.

“What do we have?”

Taggert spared him a glance. “Both Paine and Vitali are inside. Apparently, Vitali rents one of the office spaces.”

Kian frowned. “A real entrepreneur, huh?”

“Yeah. Paine seemed to know about it, but no one else did. Not even Mrs. Sloane knew about it.”

“Evie? About what?”

“Vitali’s amateur filming.”

Kian’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean…”

“No, not that. Just short films, cheap, meaningless fluff. He makes a small income shooting his own ideas and sometimes renting out the space to other budding directors.”

“Between running the damn bar?”

Taggert shrugged. “Anyway, SWAT’s standing by, and the negotiator is on the way.”

“Have we heard from them?”

“Not a word. Hopefully Vitali’s still alive, but for Paine to stick around the area this long, I’m not holding my breath. We have to do things by the book.”

“Got it,” Kian said.

The negotiator arrived, a balding man in his early fifties Kian had known for about seven years. He was a good talker, a calm voice, and nothing riled him. If anyone could convince Paine to come out, Paul could. The call to Vitali’s office went through. Kian surveyed the officers and felt the tension. If Paine answered and Paul got him talking, SWAT would spend the time looking for a way into the building without being seen. They would hold out until the order was given, and then make their move. Whether the entry was a forced one would depend on if Vitali lived, and bullets would fly only if Paine fired first.

Kian walked around the back of his car and headed toward the action where the orders were doled out. The Latino man with average height but broad shoulders and heavy muscle frowned at Kian. “Why are you here, Sloane? You were taken off the case. I’ve got control of it.”

“I’m just assisting if you need it.”

“We have the locals for backup, and we’ve just gotten a hold of the building’s blueprints.”

Kian ignored him. Martinez might go easy on Paine and decide to throw in gas. Paine might find a way to slip past. Paine would exit the building in cuffs or a body bag and not under his own steam. Period.

Time passed slowly, and night fell. A voice crackled over the radio. Kian had been pacing, but now he stilled and listened.

“Sir, we have a visual of the office interior,”
came the voice. Kian knew it was the leader of the team that had disappeared at the far end of the lot and must have made their way into the building from a different entrance.

Martinez put more distance between himself and the negotiator, and Kian followed, not put off by the agent’s scowls. Martinez squeezed the button on his radio. “What’s the hostage’s status?”

“He

s lying on the floor. Most of his body

s hidden by the desk, but there

s a substantial amount of blood pooling at his feet.”

Both Martinez and Kian swore, Kian wondering how he’d tell Evie if her ex was dead.

“I need a confirmation of death,” Martinez barked.

“Hold, sir.”

They stood as the moments ticked by, Kian feeling like something crawled up his back, and he realized he’d begun to sweat. He rolled his shoulders and neck to ease some of the tension.

Martinez signed to Paul, a gesture to try to keep Paine talking. The confirmation had come through. They’d failed to keep Vitali safe, and now they needed to make sure Paine didn’t get away. Since they no longer had a hostage situation, SWAT would go in hot and heavy.

Shots peppered the air, and at first Kian assumed they’d come from inside the building or at the back. When a bullet pinged off the body of the car nearby, he crouched and drew his weapon. “He’s got friends,” he shouted. “Take cover.”

All of a sudden, the standoff was anything but orderly. Police and agents fired at unseen assailants, who hid in the trees beside and behind the business park. Kian peered around the side of the vehicle where he hunkered down and pinpointed a perp by the flash from his gun as he shot. Kian squeezed off a round and was rewarded with a grunt and thud. A man ran from the trees as if he intended to make an escape. Kian drew his lips back in sneer of disgust and fired again. The bullet hit the man in the leg, and he went down.

Kian swore when it seemed as if Paine had enough clout to call in a small army, but Kian couldn’t afford to be pinned down this way. While he saw the flashes from shots fired inside the building, he did not want to leave everything up to SWAT. He had personal reasons to make sure Paine didn’t get away. Memories spurred him on, of Evie’s lovely face all swollen, and fear in her wide, brown eyes whenever they had to leave the house. That bastard would pay.

Kian returned fire a few more times while working his way around the car and then flattening against the side of the building. He came to the corner and readied his weapon, holding it between two hands. A quick peek told him the coast was clear, and he ran along the narrow lane with wall on the right and trees where he could be picked off at any time on the left.

Police cars swarmed the back. Two cops crashed through the brush, he assumed in pursuit of suspects. He prayed none of them was Paine. Kian entered the building, following the shouts. At least for the time being shooting had ceased. No gas hung in the air, to his relief, and then he came upon several agents standing around. Kian walked into the room with caution and sighed. So it was true. Leo Vitali was dead, shot in the chest, maybe before they’d ever arrived.

“Paine?” he demanded of the nearest officer.

“He’s not here,” was the response.

“How the hell did you lose him when he was in your sights?” Kian growled.

A hand dropped on his shoulder, and he whirled around. Taggert stood there. “Out the back. Somehow he got away with the cover his friends gave him. We have two officers on his tail, but the man moves fast, and one of the officers has a slug in his leg. They got the shooter.”

Kian barreled past his partner. “The men I saw leaving the scene. Damn it. I should have known.”

Kian crashed through the brush with Taggert behind him. “John, radio,” he shouted, and reached back. Taggert seemed to choke and then slapped the radio in his hand, and Kian strained his ears to pick up the report from the officers. He hoped no more of Paine’s friends hid out here because he wasn’t exactly silent as he made his way. After a while, the trees opened to a street, and Kian stopped running. He looked up and down the expanse, but saw no one.

“Here,” Taggert said, and shined his flashlight on the ground. Black marks scorched the cement. “He had someone waiting. They could be anywhere.”

Kian swore. The radio crackled, and he was about to listen in when Martinez burst through the trees frowning. “Blyth’s been hit. They’re taking her in an ambulance now.”

Kian’s world rocked out of control. Blood rushed through his ears, but he realized as he stared at Martinez in disbelief that the man continued to speak. He worked to calm down so he could hear.

“We got a chase on six-oh-one. It’s Paine,” Martinez finished.

Kian had a choice to either go to the hospital to check on Meghan or to run down Paine. He chose Paine, hoping against hope Meghan would be okay. In record time, he returned to his vehicle, and sped down the street toward the interstate. He turned up the volume on his radio and listened for Paine’s location, then pressed his foot heavy on the gas. Two miles from the target, he picked up a black and white on his tail, lights flashing, siren blaring. Kian frowned and snatched up the receiver for the radio again. He identified himself. The response came immediately.

“I need to lose a tail,” he said, and gave his position. He waited a beat, and glancing in his rearview mirror, he saw the cop car fade away. Kian tightened his grip on the steering wheel and concentrated on reaching the chase. A few minutes later, Paine’s vehicle, followed by four police cars, came into view. Kian easily weaved around the police and soon led the charge. Maybe Paine sensed it was him who led the chase because he decided to take the next exit. Kian followed almost on his bumper.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he muttered. “Nowhere I won’t find you.”

Paine led them on a merry chase through back roads and brush, down residential streets that made Kian grit his teeth in hopes no children chose that moment to step into the road. They were lucky to avoid a couple of women crossing the road because the women dove out of the way, not because Paine gave a damn. Kian picked up the radio receiver to demand a roadblock and gave the probable location of where he thought Paine was headed. Another few miles and he saw it. There was nowhere for Paine to go except straight into the vehicles blocking his path. On both sides of them were fields, protected with heavy wooden fences, and the area directly off the road was a sharp decline. Paine risked getting stuck in a ditch if he chose that way.

Kian dropped back, and just as he knew would happen, Paine hit spikes. All four tires of his car burst, and he swerved hard for the ditch to the right. Kian slammed on breaks. He was out of his car almost before it stopped moving and jetting down after Paine. Someone called his name, but he ignored it. The front end of Paine’s car crunched into the hard-packed earth. Seconds after, the passenger door opened, and Paine appeared, bloodied forehead with a bump forming. He raised a gun toward Kian, but Kian fired first, capturing him in the shoulder because of his own unsteady footing. Paine howled. Another shot and Kian found himself on his back, grinding his teeth at the pain in his chest. His head spun. Bullets peppered the air above him, but he shook his head and rolled over. No matter how bad it hurt, he had no intention of staying down.

“Drop your weapon,” one of the officers still up on the road shouted.

Paine and his companion responded with more shots. Kian looked over at them. They might have seemed to be at a disadvantage, but the almost overturned car gave them a barrier, and with night having fallen, it gave them a bit more coverage. At least the moon shined brightly enough for Kian to see.

“Damn, you’re not dead?” Paine called when Kian crouched nearby, using the other end of the car for protection. He was way too close, but if he played the situation right, he could bring the men down. At least the officers on the street gave him coverage.

Kian checked his weapon to be sure there would be no misfire.

“Not answering, Sloane? My cousin made the biggest mistake of her life marrying you, and I was trying to save her from that, but it looks like she went running back. I don’t care what she does now. You can have her. She doesn’t understand family.”

Kian had worked to keep Paine from provoking him, but he couldn’t resist. “You’re the fool, Paine. Evie’s the best thing that ever happened in your life, and instead of taking care of her, you hurt her and put her life in danger.”

Paine spewed nonstop curses, and Kian finally got it that Paine was jealous of how much Evie loved him. Losing his parents all those years ago must have broken something in the man, and he had thought to replace it with Evie. She would never be enough. No one would.

“Come on out, Paine. You know you can’t get away. Just toss out your weapon, and put your hands up. You and your friend.”

“Naw, I’m not going down like that.”

Bullets pinged off the metal near his head. More rained down from above, temporarily cutting off Paine’s attack. Kian sucked in a breath and blew it out. He signaled to the men on the road, knowing Paine and his buddy couldn’t see him. Then he shoulder rolled out from his hiding place and fired again and again where he knew Paine to be. This time, he didn’t miss his mark. Paine fell back against his friend, knocking the man’s hand away when he would have shot Kian. John Taggert appeared from nowhere and took the man down, disarmed him, and shackled his wrists in seconds.

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