Broken Angels (38 page)

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Authors: Anne Hope

BOOK: Broken Angels
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He had to act fast. With lightning quick reflexes despite his advanced years, he whipped out his Glock and shot the son of a bitch in the shoulder—nerves made his hand shake and threw off his aim. Then he raced across the deck and practically threw himself into his boat. No shots rang out behind him. The man obviously didn’t want to risk injuring the boy. Wasting no time, Neil wound in the anchor, gunned the motor and backed out. Next thing he knew, his vessel sprang forth, leaving froth and waves behind.

A spray of bullets rained over the waves. The man had inched his way to the stern and was shooting at him. One hand gripped his SIG, the other, his injured shoulder. Far away on either side of them, two ships lined the horizon, draped in mist.

What the hell was going on tonight? The tides seemed determined to sweep him away. But he’d worked too hard for too long to surrender now. Spinning around, he shot a few holes in the hull behind him. Last thing he wanted was for the traitor to follow him.

Then, still stunned by the betrayal, he steered his boat north and swiftly melted into the fog.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Zach fought to control the unfamiliar vessel and stay on course. In the quickly receding distance he made out the hazy outline of land. At least he hadn’t gotten lost. But would that be enough? He didn’t know how long he had before Noah was carried away, his identity stripped from him, his future destroyed. Like so many others before him. The thought sickened him. So many children, so many faces. Those faces kept flashing across his mind—a repulsive slideshow.

At least Kristen had escaped, but where was she now? Had Becca and Martin found her or did she lie in the shrubs unconscious, struggling for breath?

Acid scalded his gut. Everything had spiraled out of control, and he was fighting to hold it together. Memories of the past month unspooled in his head…and heart. Maybe he didn’t know shit about being a father, but he loved these kids with everything he had. Loved them so much he no longer knew how to function without them. They’d somehow crept under his skin and carved a permanent place for themselves within him. No one else could fill that space. It was theirs and theirs alone. And right now the large chunk of his soul that belonged to them throbbed with an emptiness that was painful.

The wind moaned as the boat picked up speed. Fog lined the horizon, eerie tendrils that rolled across the sea like the ghost of some long-extinct sea creature. To Zach’s surprise, a boat sprang from the depths of its smoky belly. The night rumbled as the craft speared through the waves. Someone was in a real hurry to get away. He recognized the vessel. It belonged to Neil Hopkins.

Urgency flooded Zach’s system. He couldn’t let him get away, with or without Noah, so he did the only thing a man could do in this situation. He pushed the motor until it sputtered from the effort, then plowed right into the other craft. A thunderous crash rent the air as both boats came to a sudden halt. Wasting no time, Zach boarded the other vessel and launched himself on a flustered Neil Hopkins. The two men plunked to the ground in a twisted splay of limbs. The lawyer swiped his fist at him, but Zach managed to dodge the blow and land one of his own.

“Where’s my kid?”

Hopkins didn’t answer, so Zach hit him again, harder this time. Blood spurted from the bastard’s nose. “What did you do with him?”

“You’re too late.” Fury tinged with satisfaction contorting his face, Hopkins cuffed Zach on the chin. “He’s gone.”

Zach had had enough. He dragged the bag of shit to his feet and kneed him in the gut. The lawyer doubled over, so Zach followed through with a swift uppercut to the jaw. “That’s for my sister.” He rammed his fist in the son of a bitch’s plexus. “That’s for my brother-in-law.”

Just a few short weeks ago he’d told Noah that violence wasn’t the answer. He’d been a goddamn moron. Sometimes violence was the only answer. It was the only thing scum like Hopkins understood.

“Now, I’ll ask you again,” he said between clenched teeth. “Where. Is. My. Boy.”

“Put your hands up and turn around.”

The unexpected sound froze Zach solid and filled him with confusion. Releasing Hopkins, he rotated his body and peered out to sea. A Coast Guard patrol ship rapidly approached, ghostlike in the gray gloom.

“I said put your hands up,” the Coast Guard cried through a bullhorn again. Zach did as he was told and moved away from Hopkins toward the stern.

Seconds later, a swarm of law enforcement officials spilled into the sinking ship, rifles raised. Hopkins didn’t seem to care. With the look of a man who had nothing left to lose, he pulled out a gun and tried to shoot his way out. Bullets whizzed past Zach’s head. Before he had time to register what was happening, spasms shook Neil Hopkins body, and he collapsed on the deck to swim in a sea of his own blood.

Panic screamed through Zach. “No, damn it.” Ignoring the guns aimed at his back, he sprinted across the boat and sank to the ground next to the man who’d conspired to destroy his family. “He has to tell us what he did with Noah.”

He grabbed the lawyer by the collar, shook him. “Wake up, you bastard.” Pain laced with desperation lumped in his throat. Somewhere in the distance the rev of a helicopter punctured the dense shroud of night. “Wake up and tell me where to find my boy.”

Then they were prying him off Hopkins, dragging him away. Zach struggled for freedom, the urgency inside him reaching a dangerous high. “Noah—” His voice broke. “Noah, where are you?”

“Right here.”

The fight drained out of him at the sound of the familiar voice. “Noah?”

“Over here.”

He slanted his head to the left and saw his nephew, standing next to Pat Jenkins on a second patrol ship that had just pulled up beside them. The kid looked drawn, shaken, but otherwise unharmed. Relief arrowed through Zach, cut him off at the knees. If they hadn’t been holding him up, he would’ve surely smashed to the ground.

The Coast Guard escorted him to the patrol ship, where Pat hastened to greet him. “You all right?”

“I’ve been better.”

Noah raced into his arms. The impact sent a jolt vibrating through him. Zach held the boy tight, blinking to crush the sting in his eyes. There was no feeling in the world like a hug from his kid. Especially after the night he’d just had.

“I thought he killed you.” A bout of shaking overtook Noah’s body. “Please, don’t ever die, all right?”

Zach closed his lids tight to crush the amplifying throb in his temples. “I’m not going anywhere. By the time I’m through, you’ll be begging to get me off your back.”

The boy inhaled in broken gasps. “I don’t care. You can take away my Game Boy, send me to my room.” A sob thrummed in his chest. “I really want to go to my room.”

“That can be arranged.”

Then Noah sobered, ripped his body out of Zach’s arms. “What about Kristen?”

Zach shook his head. He didn’t know what to tell the boy.

“She’s fine.” Pat placed a reassuring hand on Noah’s neck. “I spoke with Tess. Wasn’t easy, I can tell you that. Reception here’s a bitch. But I caught bits and pieces of the conversation. Rebecca called and told her that Kristen’s at the Martha’s Vineyard Hospital. She’s stable.”

Zach couldn’t even begin to describe the emotion that overtook him. Exhaustion crashed over him in sheets. It was as if he’d been holding his breath for days, and he’d finally released it. “How did you find us?” he asked Pat.

“I’ve been trying to bring the Broken Angels down for years. Kept hitting one roadblock after another. Then a couple of days ago, out of the blue, I get an anonymous tip that a transfer’s about to go down here. The Coast Guard and I have been staking this place out for over thirty-six hours. We caught the scumbag Hopkins came to meet, replaced him with one of our men, but Hopkins shot him and got away. We’ve been on his tail ever since he gunned it out to sea.”

Zach folded his body onto a bench, drew Noah beside him. “Liam knew about Hopkins. That’s what got him and Lindsay killed. I’ve got a ton of evidence he gathered. There’s more at Hopkins’ winery.”

Pat’s face lit up like a beacon. “I’ll get my men on it.” Determination hardened his jaw. “It’s about time these Broken Angels got what’s coming to them.”

Rebecca’s body ached from stress and all the hours she’d spent sitting on a hard chair. The kind woman who’d spoken to her earlier had brought her some coffee. Shaking lightly, she raised the Styrofoam cup to her lips. Anxiety had taken its toll on her.

Thankfully, the doctors had reassured her that Kristen was stable. Rebecca sat beside her, holding her small hand in quiet reassurance while the girl slept beneath an oxygen mask far too big for her face.

She had yet to hear anything from Zach or Martin. Worry was a living thing. It grew inside her, squeezed out all rational thought and filled her with darkness. That darkness ate away at her now, one nip at a time, even as the night edged toward dawn. Just a few more hours and the sun would rise to streak the sky pink. A new day would begin. What it brought with it was still a mystery.

When the door swung open, she rocketed to her feet. Martin entered, looking haggard.

“Did you find them?”

Regret rearranged his features. He shook his head. “I searched everywhere—the winery, the woods. Both boats were gone.”

Her heart sank. Worry bit into her with dagger-sharp teeth. Her knees wobbled, so she dropped back into the chair. “I don’t understand. Where could they have gone? And why hasn’t Zach called?”

Martin approached her, touched a comforting hand to her shoulder. “I’m sure he’s got everything under control. You know Zach. He’s a total control-freak.” This time his voice didn’t drip with bitterness. It was tender and genuine.

She appreciated his attempt to comfort her and lighten her spirits. “He’ll call.” Tears burned behind her eyes. She needed to believe everything would be all right. She voiced a silent prayer, swore she’d never ask for another thing if Zach and Noah were returned to her, safe and sound.

None of her prayers had ever been answered before. Eventually, she’d stopped praying altogether. But today something inside her shifted, and she was overcome with a soul-deep yearning to believe in something greater than herself, so she grasped at anything that offered hope.

As if a higher power had indeed heard her and answered her plea, Zach’s wide frame filled the doorway. He looked like hell, and yet he’d never looked more beautiful to her. Shadows played across the strong planes of his face, darkening his eyes, accentuating the sharp slant of his cheeks and jaw. She stood on shaky legs and walked toward him, hesitant to trust what she saw.

“Noah?” The question squeaked out of her.

Zach turned to face the hallway, then yanked the boy to his side and urged him into the room. At the sight of her nephew’s exhausted, dirt-dusted face, her legs nearly gave way, and she grabbed hold of the bed railing for support.

Then Noah did something that stole every last vestige of strength she possessed. He raced across the room and embraced her. She stood there holding him for the longest time, her heart drumming against her ribcage, the tears she’d held at bay for days flooding her cheeks. In a few long strides, Zach closed the distance between them and drew them both into the protective fortress of his arms. “It’s over,” he soothed. “Everyone’s safe.”

“And Hopkins?” The words were a low tremble in her throat.

He placed his chin on the top of her head, held her tighter. “Dead.”

She jerked back. “You killed him?”

“I wanted to, but the cops beat me to it.”

Confusion made her head pound. Then Zach explained everything. When he was done, both she and Martin watched him silently, their faces awash with shock.

“I’m still reeling from all this.” Martin rubbed his eyes. “Hopkins, a kidnapper. How did he do it? Find the kids, get them to agree to meet him…”

Noah shook against her. “Falcon World.”

Everyone gazed down at him expectantly.

“It’s an online game,” he told them. “He pretends he’s a kid, chats with us.” Tears pooled on his thick, black lashes. “I thought he was my friend.”

Rebecca ran a comforting palm down the boy’s back. “It’s over now. He’ll never hurt anyone again.”

A beat of silence followed, then Zach turned to Martin and extended his hand. “You came through for us,” he said. It was the closest to a thank-you he could muster.

Martin met his handshake. “These kids are my family, too.”

Zach nodded. “I know.”

No more words were spoken, but an understanding had been reached. The past was dead and buried, the future still unknown. But right there and then, they were all connected, a group of people bound by blood and love. Alone they were adrift. Together they stood tall and strong.

“Noah?” Kristen’s gravelly voice shook them all out of their trance. “You came back.”

The boy approached his sister, climbed up on the bed. “You can’t get rid of me that easy.” He stretched out beside her. “Someone’s gotta watch out for you two babies.”

“I’m not a baby,” Kristen whined.

“Course you are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

And with those words, the darkness lifted and the world happily slid back into place.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Kristen…” Voula walked out of the kitchen carrying an enormous chocolate cake and singing the familiar song with the confidence of a seasoned pop star.

The guests joined the chorus while Kristen watched them with a shy smile. Noah and Jason joyfully sang their own version, louder than everyone else, “Happy birthday to you. You belong in the zoo. You look like a monkey and you smell like one, too.”

Rebecca shook her head. Some things never changed.

True to her word, Voula had thrown Kristen a birthday party fit for a princess, especially after she’d heard about the ordeal the children had been through. The woman had been absolutely beside herself and had had quite a few choice words to say about Neil Hopkins.

Gazing around the brightly decorated room, Rebecca almost convinced herself it had all been a bad dream. Everything looked so normal. The children were laughing and teasing each other, Will was digging into the cake, even Bolt stood on his hind legs, hoping for an opportunity to lick off some of the icing.

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