Storm Front (17 page)

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Authors: Monette Michaels

BOOK: Storm Front
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“Gotcha,” Paul said.

“Ren and I had a long talk as we studied the…” Earl swallowed past the knot of anger lodged in his throat, “…uh, what those fuckers did to Tessa. We’re planning to get them all, sooner or later. Your genius brother and sister are looking for clues to the men’s identities on the images by cross-checking the client list they found for the Chicago club.”

On Tuesday night, after viewing and reviewing the evidence of Tessa’s torture, he’d been sick to his stomach—and to the very depths of his soul—at the depravity.

Before he’d joined a sleeping Tessa, he’d gone and done a few rounds of hand-to-hand at the SSI gym with Ren and Price to work the rage out of his system. He refused to let his madness touch Tessa. She’d had enough violent emotions in her life; he wanted to show her only his love and passion.

When he’d gone to his and Tessa’s bed, she’d moaned his name and snuggled into his body. That unconscious trust had wiped out any remnants of his wrath the hand-to-hand hadn’t. He wasn’t ashamed to admit, tears had formed in his eyes. He’d been in awe of the miracle of Tessa. She’d survived hell and come out of it well enough to take him into her body and let him love her. He planned to thank God every night for that blessing for the rest of his life.

Signaling a stop, Earl looked into the room where a very dead man lay on a bloody bed. Then he saw the wires and a ticking timer counting down seconds. Fifty, forty-nine—

“Bomb! Get the fuck out of here!” he shouted over the headset. “Get back! Get back!” he warned those outside the condo.

He turned and followed Paul. Both men used the railing and the wall to make a quick, sliding descent. In his head he mentally counted down the seconds remaining. Thirty-six, thirty-five—

As they hit the bottom floor and raced out the front door and down the steps, time ran out.

The bomb exploded.

The percussion of the blast threw him and Paul toward the street. Earl tucked and then rolled farther away from the heat of the flames chasing him. He continued to roll in the snow-covered lawn toward the street until he could no longer feel the heat of the fire which roared like an animal in the residential neighborhood.

Loren helped Earl up and away, as one of the SWAT team grabbed Paul.

Earl and the Walsh twins turned to look at the burning building as SWAT team members went to double-check the neighboring houses they’d cleared earlier. This time for pets. All humans were accounted for.

“What the fuck happened?” Loren asked as he visually checked his twin and Earl over for any injuries.

“Dead guy on a bomb.” Earl swore and swiped at the snow on his clothing. “Someone watched and waited until we breached the house, then started the timer. Probably done remotely. They wanted to make a statement.”

“And what statement was that?” Paul asked.

Earl growled and looked at the two men. “That he’s smarter than us. And right about now I have to agree with him.” He strode toward the rental Hummer he’d parked two blocks away. “We need to get back to Tessa. She’s not safe. Denuccio’s out there, plotting, planning.”

A sense of urgency had him break into a run and ignore the SWAT commander’s shout. He hoped Denuccio was a long way from Chicago, but his gut wasn’t buying it.

He ran faster. Loren’s and Paul’s pounding feet behind him told him they were on the same wave-length.

He tried to call Tessa. No answer.

* * * *

12 noon, The Fairmont Hotel.

Tessa had just left the tub when she heard a thud and then the ringing of the suite’s doorbell. She pulled on Earl’s T-shirt since the bottom of it covered her ass and just because it smelled like him. Then she pulled on the fluffy bathrobe the hotel provided over it.

She left the bedroom and walked into the suite’s main living area. She hadn’t placed her room service order. The bell could be the guard with an update or the maid wanting to clean the room. She didn’t have to open the door in either case. She could talk through it.

Earl had said not to open the door to anyone, and she wouldn’t.

Putting her eye to the spy hole, she spotted Special Agent Garcia whose face filled the entire view.

“Damn,” she swore under her breath. She didn’t like the man, had never liked the man.

Earl had also expressed his thoughts about the Fed, and none of them were repeatable.

“What do you want, Agent Garcia?” She spoke loud enough to be heard through the door.

“Let me in, Ms. Andrews. I need to talk to you,” Garcia shouted.

Something about his voice, his insistence, his being here and not at Denuccio’s condo with the others, set off alarm bells in her head. Denuccio would’ve been arrested weeks ago according to Earl if the Fed had done his job. Garcia’s incompetence now seemed sinister.

Go with your gut.

“Go away, Garcia.”

Her heart pounding, Tessa hurried to the phone in the room and entered Hotel Security’s three numbers with trembling fingers. Her gut screamed at her to run, but where could she go?

She heard the operator speaking loudly over the open line. She left phone off the hook on the table next to the sofa. She figured an unanswered emergency call would get her help faster.

Good, you’re doing good, Tessa. Call Earl.

Then Tessa, her breaths coming in erratic gasps, hurried to her cell phone which was in her purse on the bar separating the kitchen from the main living area of the suite. She pulled out her phone and pressed Star 2, Earl’s phone.

The click of an electronic key card snicked loudly in the room.

She stifled a scream; the resulting sound came out as a whimper. Garcia had a master key.

Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod. She was trapped.

Breathe, Tessa. Breathe.

Garcia would have to break the door open to get past the extra security locks. She had time, maybe a minute or so at the most, to alert Earl, hide, and prepare a defense.

“Tessa!” Earl’s roar came over the cell.

“Garcia’s here and trying to break in,” she whispered, her breathing erratic, into the phone as she moved to the bedroom. “What should I do? I think he did something to the cop.” The thud she’d heard.

“Sweetheart…”

Tessa winced and gasped as she heard more and even louder thuds from the outer room. The Fed was trying to knock the door down.

Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod.

“Tessa, baby…” Earl’s voice centered, reassured her. She could hold on until he got there. She wouldn’t let him down.

Then she heard, “…Denuccio might be with him. We’re on our way. Loren is calling hotel security.”

Denuccio and Garcia?

Icy fear froze her in place. No … no … she couldn’t face her tormentor. Memories of what he’d done to her threatened her sanity.

Stop it. Move your butt. Survive. Earl’s coming.

“Tessa, sweetheart, did you hear me? Security has been—”

She took a deep breath, then another, and whispered, “I already called them. I left the line open. The phone is sitting in the living room. They’ll be able to hear everything that happens.” She swallowed past the lump of fear and said as calmly as she could, “Hurry.” Her voice cracked at the end.

“Leave the line on the cell open also. We’ll need to know what’s happening.”

“O-o-okay.” Tessa held the phone between her shoulder and cheek and then pulled on some sweat pants. She didn’t want to be, couldn’t be, bare-assed under the robe and T-shirt if she had to face Denuccio.

“We’ll be at the hotel in a few minutes and upstairs ASAP.” Earl mumbled something she couldn’t hear as more and louder thuds came from outside the suite. Or was that her heart threatening to pound its way through her chest?

She shook her head and listened carefully. “Sounds like someone is using the fire ax on the door.”

“Fuck, baby, hide. The cops are on their way. All entrances to the hotel will be blocked. They can’t take you anywhere.”

“I’m not leaving this suite. You said not to, and I’m not.” She went to the bag Keely had packed for her and pulled out the small ladies’ Ruger.

As soon as she had the gun in her hand, a preternatural calm settled over her. She could defend herself. Keely’s dad had taught her how to shoot. She recalled his words:
When you pick up a gun, Tessa, be prepared to use it.
An unused weapon ain’t worth fucking spit as defense.

Or, in other words, shoot and worry about the fallout later.

“Earl…?” She flicked off the safety and chambered a round.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I’ve got a gun.” She heard his sharp inhalation over the crystal-clear connection.

“Good. Shoot to kill, baby.”

Could she kill a man? She looked at the gun in her hand, her shaking, cold hand.

Hell yeah, you can. Defend yourself. Do. Not. Hesitate.

Tessa gasped as a loud crash sounded from the main room. “Oh, God. They’re in. Hurry.”

Tessa put the cell phone on the floor by the bed and hit the speaker button. Then she hurried to the wall behind the slightly open bedroom door and waited.

She could almost feel the evil emanation from Denuccio. Remembered how he smelled like sour sweat and blood. Her blood. How cruel his hands were on her skin. How he’d laughed as she begged.

Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod, he was here.

Stop it! Remember Earl.

Earl
was
coming. The knowledge calmed her. She adjusted her grip on the gun. It felt better, more natural.

Thatta girl. Stay alive.

“Ms. Andrews.” Garcia’s voice was loud, calm, and very smug-sounding.

Smarmy son of a bitch. The man thought he was hot shit and irresistible to women. He’d even hit on her when she first reported the stalker.

Well, Tessa had hot shit with Earl; Garcia was dog crap in comparison.

“Shut up, Garcia,” Denuccio ordered.

While he hadn’t spoken much as he tortured her, something primal in her knew this was his voice. His next words verified her instincts.

“Tessa, my pet. Come to your Master.” The voice of evil had a high-class British accent. It churned her stomach.

Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

Tessa breathed and swallowed the nausea.

Then she realized Earl was hearing this as he raced to get to her and she got mad. More than mad. She felt the burn of a rage unlike anything she’d ever felt before. A cleansing rage like a wildfire preparing the forest for new growth … new life.

Pet? Master? My ass.

She gripped the Ruger as she’d been taught and waited. She’d let them make the first move.

“Tessa, you should never have shared our little sex games with the world. I’d forgotten all about you, my little pet, and then you reminded me.” He laughed. “I knew as soon as I read the branding scene … it was a sign we should come together again.”

Over my dead body.
Tessa shuddered and controlled the urge to scream at her abuser.

“When I went back and viewed the good times we had, well, little slave, I just got the urge to relive them … forever. I’ve already prepared your room, pet.”

She knew in that moment Denuccio’s elevator didn’t go all the way to the top. The man was nuts. Of course, she was still gonna have to shoot him.

He was in the bedroom doorway. She saw him pass through the crack of the partially open door. He couldn’t see her, but the instinct of the hunted had her shrinking away from his presence, making herself a smaller target.

Garcia. Don’t forget about him.

Where was the Fed? Couldn’t the SOB hear how crazy his employer was?

Denuccio moved into the bedroom and headed for the closed bathroom door. Thank God. She’d counted on him heading that way. Now, if he would just go into the bathroom and take his time, she might be able to get away.

Where in the hell is Garcia?

Tessa didn’t care. She’d take her chances with Garcia over Denuccio any day. She wasn’t as afraid of the Fed as she was Denuccio, the bogeyman from her past.

Could she shoot Garcia if he tried to stop her?

Damn right, you can. No second guessing. If the Fed is between you and freedom, shoot his smarmy, crooked ass.

Yeah, she could.

She barely breathed as she kept a sharp eye on the open area of the bedroom as Denuccio moved cautiously, silently, toward the bathroom where he thought she hid. Did he have a gun?

Yes. There.

Denuccio raised his arms in a shooter’s double-handed grip. The gun was matte black and had a silencer.

“Tessa, are you in the tub? Hiding? Silly girl, you can’t hide from me. Didn’t you learn anything all those years ago?” Denuccio continued to move slowly, stalking her like the predator he was. He opened the bathroom door and entered.

No guts, no glory, Tessa.

She raised her gun and kept the door of the bathroom in sight as she walked sideways around the bedroom door. A quick glance showed her Garcia was positioned by the door to the hallway, his back to her as he kept an eye on the elevators and stairs.

Tessa entered the main room quickly and as quietly as she could, but Garcia heard something and turned toward her. He raised his gun, and she didn’t even think, she brought her gun up and fired.

Amazingly she hit his gun arm, and he dropped his weapon. “You fucking bitch.”

Tessa ran at Garcia. “Get out of my way.”

“No!” Garcia charged her and knocked her to the ground. He tried to get her gun away from her, but she refused to let it go.

“Don’t hurt her, Garcia, or you’re a dead man!” Denuccio shouted.

Tessa kicked and bit at Garcia. The only reason he hadn’t gained the upper hand and subdued her was because he was bleeding like a stuck pig.

“Give me the gun, bitch,” Garcia screamed in her ear. He got his hand on the wrist of the hand holding the gun and squeezed.

“No.” She gritted her teeth and held on to the Ruger for all she was worth.

“Let her go, Garcia,” Denuccio yelled. “I have her covered.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Denuccio approach. She used all her strength and pointed the gun in his direction and pulled the trigger.

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