Dying for Love (31 page)

John faced Axelrod in the interrogation room, rage eating at him, at the evil oozing from the man’s pores.

“Have you been in contact with Commander Blackwood?” John asked.

Axelrod’s bushy eyebrows rose. “You’ve seen him? He’s alive?”

“You didn’t know?”

Axelrod shook his head, then leaned back in the chair, looking oddly satisfied. “No, but I’m not surprised, I suppose.”

“He kidnapped a friend of mine.”
The woman I’m in love with.
“You worked with him?”

“I protected him before CHIMES. And as I saw what he did, I decided to form my own group of followers. I’m going to be as famous as he was when the reporters start covering my story.”

Sick, twisted fuck.

John leaned forward, hands on the table. “You want the reporter who covered the CHIMES project to write about you?”

Axelrod’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Yes, Brenda Banks. She’ll make me famous.”

“I can arrange for her to talk to you,” John said. “That is, if you tell me where Blackwood took my friend.”

Axelrod’s expression taunted him. “Where do you think he would take her?”

“I never said my friend was a woman.”

Axelrod laughed, a throaty chuckle that grated on John’s last nerve.

“We both know you’re working with Amelia Nettleton, looking for her baby. And she was the Commander’s pet project.”

Hatred surged through John. “Do you know where she is?”

Fear flashed in the man’s eyes for the first time since he’d been arrested. “No. But I did hear he had a special child some of his followers were watching. That he didn’t want anyone to get the kid.”

“Where did he hide him?”

“They moved him to my compound for a while.” Axelrod rubbed at his leg. “But the Commander had someone take him to a safe place.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know the location.”

John wanted to choke the man. “Where would he take Amelia?”

“Use your head,” Axelrod said. “Where was the one place he inflicted the most damage on Amelia?”

John’s heart hammered as it hit him. The sanitarium.

Body pulsing with frustration and fear, he turned and strode toward the door.

“You’re going to send Brenda to see me, aren’t you?” Axelrod asked.

John shot him the same kind of evil look Axelrod had sent him. Their gazes locked, filled with animosity.

He walked out the door, leaving the bastard stewing over whether John would keep his word.

To hell with the man. He refused to do anything to glorify a killer.

Ice crunched beneath this boots as he climbed in his car. He pressed the accelerator and sped down the drive, tires screeching on the slick asphalt as he turned onto the road leading into the mountain.

A bleakness fell over him. What if he didn’t find Amelia in time? What if the Commander had Amelia’s son and he never found them?

Then the child might end up tortured and abused like his subjects . . .

And Amelia . . . how could he go on if he let her die?

No, he couldn’t lose her.

She was the only thing that mattered in the world to him. The one person who made him want to be a better man.

He maneuvered the winding road, climbing higher into the mountains. The sanitarium looked like an ancient haunted castle set on the hill in the midst of the sharp ridges and thick trees. They should have shut down the place after the experiment was revealed, but they’d tried to clean house, reorganize, make it a viable psychiatric hospital again.

A sarcastic laugh bellowed from him. There were patients being treated there now.

But the basement where the Commander had conducted his experiments had been locked and closed off.

John met security and got a passkey to get through secure areas, then instructed the team to comb the building.

An eerie silence mingled with the echoes of terrorized patients’ cries in the halls.

And triggered a litany of flashes behind John’s eyes. Memories of being there. Watching the Commander issue orders.

He headed to the basement where the Commander had performed his experiments. And where he had almost killed Sadie.

He eased open the door, his pulse jumping. Was Blackwood holding Amelia there in the dark?

Slowly he crept down the steps, his gun drawn.

But the sound of a gun clicking made him freeze.

Dim light from a bulb far across the basement room offered just enough light for him to see a shadow.

“I’ve been expecting you, son.”

John’s lungs tightened. Of course Blackwood was waiting. It was too easy, a setup.

And he’d taken the bait.

Blackwood had lured him there so he could kill him and Amelia together.

Chapter Thirty

J
ohn stared into Commander Blackwood’s steely, hard eyes.

Suddenly memories assaulted him. Six years ago, he’d confronted Blackwood just like this.

To save Amelia and the baby.

Per his father’s orders, he’d helped guard Amelia for months. But during that time, he’d fallen madly in love with her.

And he’d realized that his father was a sick monster.

The day she’d gone into labor, he’d rushed to her room. “
Come on, Amelia, I’m taking you someplace safe.”

She rubbed her belly, but gave him a beautiful smile. Minus the narcotics they’d pumped into her for years, her eyes were clear, her face full of color and life.

He took her hand and helped her step from the room where they’d been keeping her. At the door, he motioned for her to wait, and he peered into the hallway.

She suddenly clutched her abdomen, and heaved a deep breath. “John . . . I think the baby’s coming.”

Dammit, she wasn’t due for two more weeks. He should have broken her out sooner. If she delivered there, his father would take the child.

His baby.

He had to save the baby and Amelia.

He took her hand and coaxed her down the hall, his gun at the ready. If they could make it to the end, he could help her into a wheelchair. Then he could roll her out of there.

But just as they neared the corner of the corridor, his father stepped from the shadows, his gun drawn.

“You’re not taking her anywhere, John.”

“Let her go, Commander,” John said through gritted teeth. “She deserves to be free now.”

Footsteps pounded. More of the Commander’s minions.

Amelia screamed and doubled over, breathing through a contraction.

“Get her to the delivery room,” the Commander ordered.

The guards surrounded them with guns, and they rushed Amelia onto a bed and wheeled her to the delivery room. John latched onto her hand.

“It’ll be all right, Amelia. I promise.”

By the time they got in the sterile room she screamed again. “The baby’s coming!”

The guards grabbed his arms to hold him back from being with her. He heard Amelia in agony, pushing. A baby’s cry rent the air.

His baby . . . A boy . . .

John had to save him from his father.

He tried to reach him, but the guards jerked him back. Then the Commander took the baby. Amelia was crying, screaming, begging to hold her son.

“Let me have him,” John snapped.

But something hit him hard in the back of the head, then a needle jabbed his arm.

The memory faded, the dank basement echoing with another scream.

Amelia’s.

Amelia’s scream brought him from his memory to the present. And then he knew that Amelia’s son . . . was his son.

For a moment he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The room swirled out of control.

Slowly Amelia’s cry broke through the haze clouding his mind.

Dammit, he had to stop the madness.

“Let her go, Father,” John said between clenched teeth. “It’s over.”

The Commander’s bitter laugh filled the room. “I see you’re still thinking with the wrong side of your brain.”

“No, with my heart,” John hissed. “But you wouldn’t understand since you don’t have one.”

“Emotions make a man weak.”

“No, they make a man human.”

Another bitter laugh, then the Commander laid a hand on Amelia’s shoulder. John’s gut clenched at the sight of her tied to that chair.

“No one will be surprised to find that Amelia killed herself. Not with her history.”

His father wrapped his arm around Amelia’s throat, the gun pressed to her temple. Her panicked look wrenched him from the inside out.

Once she’d looked at him with love and trust. Yet, somehow in spite of everything his father had done to tear them apart, they’d found each other again.

This time he wouldn’t let her down.

“Release her,” John said, a warning to his tone.

“You can still come and work with me, John. You made a good soldier once.”

“I said, let her go.”

“She ruined everything,” the Commander said. “Now it’s finally going to end.”

He cocked the gun at her temple, and John jumped him, tearing him away from Amelia. The gun went off, fired into the air, pinging off the ceiling. It was so damn dark John couldn’t see if she’d been hit.

Then he felt blood seeping down his arm. He’d been shot.

The Commander slammed the butt of his gun against the side of John’s face, but John fought back. He lost his Sig in the tumble, and heard it slide across the concrete.

A sob tore from Amelia’s throat. “John!”

John cursed himself. He’d been trained well as a sniper. He should have fired a bullet into his father’s head.

The Commander jerked him by the neck and slammed his gun against his face again. John tasted blood, pain shooting through his eye and temple.

He shoved his fist into his father’s stomach, causing him to cough, then tried to shove him off of him. But his father fought back, and they rolled on the floor, trading punches.

John managed to jab a hard knock to his father’s throat, causing him to fall backward. He pounced then, and clawed for his gun. But the Commander kicked him in the gut and John doubled over.

The Commander lurched to his feet, swinging the gun at John, then ran toward Amelia. He untied her feet, keeping the gun trained on John, then took Amelia’s arm and dragged her from the chair.

She cried out, and John rolled toward his gun. His fingers connected just as the Commander fired again. John rolled sideways to dodge the bullet, snagged his gun, and let off a round.

Bullets pinged off the floor and walls as the Commander ran for the steps. He was pushing Amelia up the stairs when John tackled them. He knocked the Commander off balance, away from Amelia. She fell down the steps, and he rushed to see if she was okay.

In that split second, the Commander disappeared through a back door that John hadn’t even known existed.

“Amelia.” John knelt to see if she was okay. He could hear her breathing. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she cried. “Go after him, John. Don’t let him escape.”

John helped her sit up, then jogged toward the corner where the Commander had disappeared.

But just as he stepped outside into the frigid air, the sound of a helicopter roared in the night. He looked up and saw its lights flashing as it soared above the treetops and whirled away.

Amelia doubled over to catch her breath and crawled to the steps to wait on John. He had to catch the Commander. Make him tell them where her sons were.

But seconds later, John ran back into the basement. “Amelia?”

“I’m here. On the steps.”

His footsteps clattered on the concrete as he strode toward her. She reached for him in the dark, and he slid his arms around her.

“Dammit, he got away,” John said in a gruff voice.

Amelia collapsed into tears against him. If he was gone, they might never find her little boys.

Her heart squeezed.
Their
little boys.

John stroked her back, rubbing her hair, soothing her. “It’s okay. I’ll find the bastard and kill him.”

“John, he said there were twins. I had two baby boys, not just one.”

John’s pulse jumped. “Twins? Dear God . . . ”

Tears blurred her eyes. “I remember more now, John. Everything.” Amelia cupped his face between her hands. “The twins are yours. You’re the father of my babies.”

Even in the dark, she saw a tear roll down his cheek.

“You were right,” he said gruffly. “I wasn’t just working for him. I remembered that day, you going into labor. I tried to get you away, but he attacked me.”

“I know.”

John’s voice choked. “I . . . I’m his son, Amelia. I’m the bastard’s son.”

Despair threatened to overpower her. The details were blurry, but he had held a gun on her once.

He’d also tried to help her escape. “He caused your memory loss,” she whispered. “He wanted you to forget me.”

“And I did for a while. I forgot everything.” His voice rattled with self-recriminations. “I should have tried harder to remember.”

“It wasn’t your fault, John.” Through the haze of her fear, she felt something damp against her. John’s shirt. Blood.

“You’ve been shot.” Sticky blood oozed from his arm. “We have to get you to a doctor.”

“I’m fine, it’s just a flesh wound.” He searched her face. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

She nodded again, her heart in her throat. John had tried to save her and the babies years ago. And he’d saved her that night.

But now the Commander was on the run, and he might do something drastic to her little boys.

“I need to call Jake and Nick,” John said. “Tell them what happened.”

She clutched his arms as he helped her to stand, and they climbed the steps to the first floor together. Amelia waved a nurse over to bandage John’s arm, and he relented, but urged the nurse to hurry.

“We need to talk to Helen,” Amelia said as the nurse finished taking care of John’s wound. “John, she might know where the Commander is going.”

John phoned Nick and Jake on the way to the hospital to see Helen.

“The Commander got away,” John said. “Left the sanitarium in a chopper.”

“We’ve got all the authorities looking for him,” Nick said.

“Any idea where he was going?” Jake asked.

“No, I’m hoping Helen Gray might know.”

“Who is Helen Gray?” Nick asked.

“A social worker,” John explained. “She was at the hospital back when Amelia gave birth. Just let me know if Blackwood is spotted anywhere.”

He ended the call, debating whether or not he should have told them they were related.

But he was still trying to get used to that realization himself.

When they arrived, he checked in with the nurse’s desk. “We need to see Helen Gray. She was brought in for surgery earlier. How is she?”

“Let me get her doctor.” She punched a button and paged the doctor, who appeared five minutes later. He introduced himself and shook John’s hand.

“We just moved her to a room from recovery. She’s going to be all right, but she’ll be weak and sore for a while.”

“Can we see her?” Amelia asked.

“Just for a few minutes,” the doctor said. “Try not to upset her. The gunshot wound and stress of surgery took its toll.”

John paused to study the woman’s face as they entered her room. He’d been talking with her about the case for days now, but hadn’t remembered knowing her years ago. Although if she was at the mental hospital, he must have known her.

He walked over to her bed, and Amelia followed him. The beep of the machines hooked to Helen sounded in the quiet.

Amelia squeezed his hand, and he swallowed hard. After all Amelia had been through, she seemed worried about him. She was amazing. No wonder he’d fallen in love with her years before.

And again these last few weeks.