Flynn dove behind the couch as more bullets sprayed the house. He’d taken out four guys in seconds. Six remained, four inside the living room and two on the front lawn.
There was a dull ache in his shoulder from where a bullet had struck while he’d carried Carina to the bedroom. He ignored it. Placed his full attention on the bullets going off around him and waited for a chance to return fire.
Suddenly, glass shattered in the master bedroom. Then an explosion.
For a moment, everything else faded. Everything except the noises in that room. The room where he’d put Carina.
He was seconds from rising to his feet and racing to her before the sound of footsteps coming toward him registered. Then a man was there, stepping around the couch. Flynn rolled to miss a bullet, wrapping his legs around the guy’s and twisting him to the floor. He stood faster than anyone could track, hauling the man up and using his body as a shield while firing his own weapon and backing toward the bedroom—where he heard a single gunshot.
God, please say the shooter was Carina.
Assholes five and six went down with bullets between the eyes. Flynn got the seventh guy in the chest.
Another gunshot from the bedroom. He was a second from dropping the struggling man in his arms and running when the two guys outside dashed in, and bullets ripped through the space, most of them hitting the man in his hold.
One lucky shot ricocheted off the gun in Flynn’s hand, sending the weapon flying.
As the two men continued to draw closer, Flynn cursed under his breath.
After lifting the dead guy in his arms, he threw the body at the remaining men and raced to the bedroom door to smash it open, not caring about the bullets from behind.
His heart stopped in his chest.
Eadie lay on the floor, blood pooling around her. There was also a second pool of blood—but no Carina.
He ran to the half-shattered wall before jumping out, and sprinting to the street. He caught sight of the back of a car just before it sped around the corner. It was too far away to chase.
Goddammit!
He committed the license plate to memory. The make. The model. Everything. And he had to pray that was enough to get her back.
Suddenly, cars showed up on the street. His team, each man armed and ready for action.
Carina winced, keeping her eyes tightly shut. Her breathing was slow, and her body felt heavy, almost numb.
She tried to shift, but exhaustion weighed her down, and then nausea rolled in her stomach. She pressed a hand there and stilled when she felt something beneath her shirt.
Wait…was that…a bandage?
Slowly, her eyes fluttered open.
The first thing she saw was a white ceiling with a black pendant light in the center. Slowly, her gaze shifted around the room. It was a bedroom. One she’d never seen before.
Unease slithered in her belly, and when she looked down and tugged the shirt up, a whimper escaped her.
She was right. It was bandages she’d felt under her fingers. And whose shirt was this? It was clearly a man’s. Other than a bra and underwear, it was all she wore.
Little bits of her memory began to trickle back to her. Of the men on bikes throwing the brick into Patricia’s living room. Of the second brick in the bedroom. Eadie.
And the man…Ilias. He took her in a car.
Fear flashed through her, sweat beading her forehead. Her gaze skittered to an IV attached to her hand and the cord trailing up to a bag of fluids.
Was that the reason for the numbness?
Her hand shook as she touched the IV. She was seconds from removing it when the bedroom door opened.
“You shouldn’t do that, sweetheart. It’s keeping the pain at bay.”
Her breath caught, and a new wave of fear and confusion washed over her.
Greg.
He moved forward slowly. When he reached the bed, he lowered a tray of food to the table beside her. “I also put a mild sedative in there to help you relax,” he added.
So that was the exhaustion. The reason she could barely move.
He sat on the mattress beside her, far too close. Then he lifted her wrist, placing his fingers at her pulse and feeling her heart pound. The contact made her skin crawl. But she didn’t pull away. Not only because she barely had the energy but because she needed to understand what was going on here. She needed to get as much information as she could to either convince the man to let her go or figure out an escape plan.
“Greg. What am I doing here?”
He lowered her wrist back to the bed, his gaze taking a while to meet hers. “You know the answer to that, Carina.”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t.”
He lifted his hand and gently pushed some hair behind her ear. Again, all she wanted to do was pull away. She remained where she was. Barely.
“I’ve loved you since the moment you stepped foot into that hospital. One conversation with you, and I knew—you were mine.” His eyes moved over her face. “I’m a patient man, so I was content to be your friend for as long as it took. I waited for you to realize that we were meant to be together.”
She swallowed back the nausea crawling up her throat.
His lips stretched in a macabre replica of a smile that curdled in her stomach. “Finally, you agreed to date me. But after only a couple months, I felt you pulling away. I knew it was only a matter of time before you left me. So I did what I had to do to keep you. I reported you for stealing medication.”
A gasp slipped from her lips. “That was you?”
“You had to realize you needed me. That you couldn’t let our relationship just…end.” His smile widened. “And for a while it worked. I was your pillar of support, and you leaned on me just like I hoped you would.” His expression turned dark. “Then you left. You walked away after everything I did for you.”
Everything he did? The man had thrown her life into chaos! She’d lost her job because of him. Her income. Her friends. That wasn’t love. That was obsession.
He shook his head. “When you moved here, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I needed you back.” His hand went to her thigh, and she gritted her teeth against the contact, needing the entire story before she did anything. “I was too subtle at first. Of course the threatening notes weren’t enough to drive you back to Michigan.”
Carina frowned. “That couldn’t have been you. Those notes… they weren’t mailed. It had to be someone local.”
He nodded. “I’ve been here. The whole time. Waiting for you.”
No. That didn’t make sense in her muddled mind. None of this did.
“I was stupid,” he continued. “Thinking notes or a simple fall on your porch would drive you back home.”
Now she gaped at him. “Fall?”
He lifted a shoulder like it was nothing. “That was just simple olive oil. I poured it on before you stepped outside, and the rain cleared it off before you got home.”
What the hell? “Greg. That’s crazy!”
“No. What’s crazy is that after everything, you still wouldn’t return to me. I kept checking on you. Calling. Texting. Waiting for you to tell me you were coming home, but you never did!” He took a breath. A moment to calm himself. “Then I saw Victoria glaring at you at that street party. And I saw her looking at Flynn. We got to talking. You know I’ve always had a way of putting people at ease.”
Carina’s mouth slid open.
“We met up for coffee the next day. I didn’t even need to prod to get her talking about how much she hated you.” He shook his head with an amused smile. “Victoria wasn’t used to rejection. A few little hints here and there, and the idea of framing you for drugs was planted in her head.”
Greg had planted the idea? God, the man was nuts.
“I was watching you that day. I saw you and that asshole leaving the house with his mom. I knew it was the best time. And everything went my way. How you left Patricia’s so quickly…left the back door unlocked, the house unalarmed…I just snuck in and took her drugs.”
The sick feeling in her stomach began to churn and coil. “Where is she?”
The fingers on her leg tightened. “Victoria? She came to see me and, unfortunately, the garage was open that day. She saw the car I took from the boys. The silly woman even opened the trunk and saw the bloodstains. I didn’t have a choice.”
Finally, she pulled her leg away from him. “You didn’t…”
She couldn’t say it. Because that would make it true.
“She would have reported me,” Greg said, as if what he’d done was completely logical. “They would have locked me up. And I would have lost you.”
Murder. The man in front of her had murdered Victoria. “And the twins?”
“I killed the boys for you. I could see they were a threat to you. A real threat. I couldn’t have them actually hurting you. So I got rid of them.”
Her breath whooshed in and out of her chest. She was only hanging on to her sanity by a thin thread. “Greg, you need help.”
Like, serious, lock-the-man-up-and-throw-away-the-key help.
Thank goodness he didn’t get angry at her comment. He just smiled, almost looking accepting of the level of insanity he possessed. “I don’t need help. I need you. And I certainly can’t have anyone else hurting you or having you.”
Having her?
“You hired that man, Ilias, to break into Flynn’s house.”
The smile wiped clean from Greg’s face. “Yes. He was supposed to kill Flynn, not hurt you. I should’ve had him killed for his mistakes. As it was, I gave him another chance, but only because I know what he’s capable of. He’s lucky he succeeded the second time.”
Greg shifted closer, and she pushed as far away as she could. His hand went to her cheek, and there was nowhere for her to go. Not with the IV in her hand.
“All my life, people have told me how brilliant I am. How I could have the world at my fingertips if I wanted. Then I met you, and I realized you were my world. You were all I wanted.”
So, this was about Greg never wanting for anything…and the second he didn’t get something he wanted, he couldn’t handle it.
“I’m telling you all of this so you’ll know the lengths I will go to keep you,” he said quietly. “This house belonged to a friend of my mother. She had quite a few. No one has come here since she passed. And no one will connect it to me. There’s no escaping.” He paused. “It’s on a large piece of land. You’re not bound right now, because I want you to learn to trust me. But if you run, I will catch you, and I’ll tie you up.”
His gaze shot down to her stomach.
“With your bullet wound, you certainly wouldn’t get far anyway. For now, your bedroom door will remain locked, and the windows will remain shut.”
Oh, sweet Jesus.
He leaned far too close, and his breath brushed her face. “I know you don’t love me now, but in time, I promise you will.”
When he nestled his head into her neck and lightly touched the bandage around her waist, she screwed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I never meant for that to happen. Ilias was supposed to kill the asshole and take you from the house. I didn’t know anyone else was coming for you.”
A kiss pressed to her neck, and she shuddered. Every part of her wanted to push him away. Attack him and run. But her body felt so damn weak. She didn’t even know if she had the strength to get off the bed.
He stood. “I’m really excited about our future, Carina.”
It wasn’t until he was leaving the room that he stopped and looked over his shoulder. “If Flynn survived that motorcycle gang attack, and you behave, I won’t send any more hitmen to kill him. I promise.”
He waited a moment. Finally, she nodded. Because what else could she do?
Then the door closed, and the click of the lock echoed through the room.
