Take the Key and Lock Her Up (41 page)

“Better than any plan I’ve got. See you on the other side.”

D
EVLIN’S PAINSTAKINGLY SLOW
belly crawl through the grass had finally gotten him within twenty feet of the front
porch. Since no one had shot at him yet, he figured he’d been successful in not being
seen. Thanks to a stop outside of town to pick up one of his stashed go bags in the
wall of an abandoned house, at least he had the tools he needed to get the job done—including
a pistol and another knife to replace the one he’d lost earlier. He trained his binoculars
on the window on the right corner of the second story, where all the action was taking
place.

From a distance, Gage’s house had looked deserted, but Devlin had shimmied halfway
up a tall tree to see what he was about to get in to. After watching each window for
a few minutes at a time, he’d focused on that last window and had seen both what he’d
expected and dreaded to see: Kelly, sitting on the floor, her hands tied to a bedpost,
her face bruised, blood running from cuts all over her body.

And Gage, pacing in front of her, holding a gun.

What puzzled Devlin was that Gage was almost as bruised and battered-looking as Kelly.
Had Gage been keeping her somewhere else after abducting her and only recently moved
her to this location? If so, maybe Kelly had managed to get loose from her bonds long
enough to get a weapon and the two of them had fought before Gage got her tied up
again. It was the only thing that made sense, given the evidence in front of him.

Judging by the cold fury on Gage’s face, Kelly wouldn’t last much longer. Devlin had
timed his movements through the grass with Gage’s pacing, stopping every time Gage
passed in front of the window. Now he was a short run from his goal. He checked his
knife, sheathed on his belt, and his pistol, holstered at his waist, to make sure
he hadn’t lost them during the crawl through the grass. Then he pulled his lockpick
out of his pocket and waited. Gage passed the window again. Devlin jumped up and ran
for the porch.

E
MILY’S FINGERNAILS CUT
into the bark of a tree as she watched Devlin’s mad dash from the tall grass to the
front porch. He must have stopped to pick up his tools of the trade before coming
here because he picked the lock on the door in a matter of seconds and disappeared
into the house.

Above him, on the second floor, someone kept pacing in front of the window on the
far right corner. But since Emily was in the woods on the left side of the house now,
she was too far away to tell if it was a man or a woman. Was Gage inside? Kelly? Devlin
would be on guard against Gage, but he didn’t know to watch out for Kelly, that she
wasn’t the victim she’d pretended to be. Somehow Emily had to warn him.

She should keep circling around to the back as agreed and meet up with Pierce. But
knowing Devlin was already inside had her feeling desperate. What was the point of
being cautious if it meant not reaching him in time to help him?

If she took off running right now, how long would it take her to cross through the
knee-high grass? The whole time she was running, she’d be vulnerable, exposed. Anyone
looking out a window would see her. Belly crawling like Devlin had would take far
too long.

“Pierce,” she called out in a voice barely above a whisper. She wasn’t sure how sound
might carry out here and didn’t want to alert whoever was inside the house. “Pierce?”

No answer. He must still be too far away to hear her. She wasn’t willing to wait any
longer. She’d have to make a run for it and take her chances.

She had just started to step past the line of trees when a loud crack sounded off
to her left. Jerking back, she crouched down, sweeping her pistol out in front of
her.

D
EVLIN CREPT DOWN
the upstairs hallway with his pistol in his hand, stopping at each door to listen
before moving to the next. He carefully edged around a decorative, granite-topped
table and hugged the wall again. So far, he hadn’t encountered anyone else in the
house, but he was on the alert in case Gage had any of his ex-con friends lurking
around. Or Ace. Anything was possible. But at least he didn’t have to worry about
Emily. He knew she was safe and out of harm’s way, being protected by Pierce.

Muted voices sounded from behind the closed door at the end of the hall, but he couldn’t
make out any words. He crept closer until he was just outside the door. Leaning back
against the wall, he held his gun pointed up at the ceiling while he reached for the
doorknob beside him.

“No, Gage, don’t!” Kelly screamed.

The dull thud of a fist smashing against flesh and bone reverberated through the room.

Kelly’s scream turned into a gurgle and a moan.

Devlin grimaced but didn’t go inside. Not yet. He wouldn’t do her any good if he were
dead. Running in blindly, without knowing where Gage was standing, would be a foolish
move. Steeling himself against Kelly’s whimpers of pain, he slowly, methodically,
twisted the doorknob a fraction at a time, until it wouldn’t turn any farther.

Footsteps echoed hollowly against the wood floor, approaching the door. Had Gage heard
him, or seen the knob turning? Devlin froze, not moving, barely breathing, waiting,
listening. The footsteps moved away from the door.

He slowly let out a pent-up breath. No, Gage hadn’t heard him. He was pacing, probably
going back and forth in front of the window again, which only proved how agitated,
how unpredictable he was in his current state of mind. He was ignoring one of the
most basic training tenets all enforcers lived by: stay away from the windows. If
Devlin had carried a rifle with him, and if he’d been so inclined, he could have picked
Gage off with one well-aimed bullet all the way back at the tree line. But he didn’t
have a rifle. And he wasn’t so inclined.

He wanted to look Gage in the eye when he killed him.

After seeing the picture of Gage picking up Arianna’s killer at the prison, Devlin
had been consumed with raw fury. All he’d wanted to do was find his former friend
and avenge his murdered fiancée. But that had lasted only as long as it had taken
to pull out of the garage. As soon as he started driving down the street, all he could
think about was Emily. He’d left her alone once before, in the bunker, and it had
nearly cost her her life.

He’d immediately called her to make sure she didn’t leave. And then, even though he’d
made it a personal crusade never to involve his family in anything related to EXIT,
he’d once again called Pierce. There was no one else he trusted enough to keep Emily
safe. Then he’d spent the next ten minutes feeling guilty that he was thinking about
Emily when it was Arianna’s memory he should have been honoring, now that he knew
the horrible truth about her death.

Stop it. Don’t get distracted. Focus on the task at hand.

It was quiet inside again, except for the sound of Gage pacing. Devlin timed each
footfall, counted the steps. Ten steps, turn. Ten steps, turn. He began to push the
door open, slowly, timed with Gage’s pacing. Ten steps,
push
, turn. Ten steps,
push,
turn. Seconds ticked by like minutes until the door stood open a full inch.

Just as carefully as he’d turned the knob before, he gradually turned the knob back
the other way, then gently pulled his hand back. So far, no noises to alert Gage.
And no had noticed the slightly open door.

He leaned down and pressed his face close to the opening. Gage was mumbling to himself,
holding his pistol down by his side. Kelly was sitting on the floor, her wrists tied
with a white nylon rope to the bed’s footboard. Her jeans were ripped and torn, with
dark stains that were probably blood. Her shirt—what was left of it—hung in shreds
around her waist, leaving her in only a bra. The red welts on her stomach and arms
told Devlin exactly why her shirt was shredded even before he saw the whip lying on
the floor a few feet away.

What he saw sickened him and settled like a cold, hard knot in his gut. He’d never
known Gage to be particularly cruel before. But then again, had he ever really known
him? This man—who’d pretended to be his friend for well over a decade—had begun that
friendship with a betrayal so heinous, so evil, that it defied understanding, and
brought up questions Devlin had never thought would cross his mind.

Like whether Gage had acted alone when he’d had Arianna killed.

Like whether Carolyn had been murdered instead of dying in a car crash, all so Gage
could hurt his family, dig the knife a little deeper.

Worst of all, Devlin still didn’t know why Gage would hate him enough to even want
to hurt his family.

Gage stopped his nervous pacing just past the window, turned to face Kelly, and slowly
raised his gun.

Devlin shoved the door open and ran inside. “Drop it!”

Gage whirled toward him.

Kelly let out a startled yelp.

Devlin pulled the trigger. The shot was nearly deafening in the confined space, echoing
against the walls and wood floor. The blast sent Gage’s gun flying across the room,
skittering across the floor and stopping beneath the window. He screamed in agony,
falling to his knees and clutching what was left of the bloody stump that had once
been his hand.

His screams turned to whimpers as Devlin crossed the room and stopped in front of
him. Gage’s pain-glazed eyes begged for the mercy he’d never given Arianna. He blubbered
and sobbed, clumsily clutching his ruined hand against his chest.

“Devlin,” he choked out, “please—”

Devlin backhanded him with the butt of his gun. Bones crunched. Gage whirled around
in a circle before crashing to the floor. His guttural screams filled the air. Devlin
slowly crouched in front of him.

Mucus ran down from Gage’s broken nose, mixing with the blood on his torn lips. One
of his front teeth had been knocked at a crazy angle and protruded through one of
the cuts on his upper lip.

“Pweeze,” he choked, barely able to form a word. “Pweeze.”

Devlin pressed the bore of his pistol between his former friend’s eyes. “Just tell
me one thing, Gage. Did Cyprian tell you to hire that bastard to kill Arianna or did
you decide that on your own?”

His eyes widened. If he’d been afraid before, now he looked terrified. He squeezed
his eyes shut, as if he knew what was about to happen, and broke down into wailing
sobs, cradling his shattered hand as if it were a baby.

Devlin pulled the pistol back and shoved it into Gage’s mouth so hard it rammed against
the back of his throat.

He made choking, gagging noises, his one good arm flailing against Devlin’s chest,
feebly trying to push him away.

“Did Cyprian give the orders?”

Bloody saliva dribbled down his chin. “
Uwes, uwes
,” he gurgled.

Devlin pulled his gun out of Gage’s mouth and wiped the barrel clean on Gage’s pants.
“Was that a yes? Cyprian gave the orders?”

He nodded vigorously, spittle dripping down in a long string to his shirt.

Kelly made a choking sound.

Devlin glanced at her. He’d been so furious and focused on making Gage confess his
role in Arianna’s death that he’d forgotten about Kelly. Her eyes were wide with fright,
her face so pale it was translucent. Her body shook as she stared at Gage, who’d sunk
to the floor, blubbering and moaning.

The stink of blood and sweat and urine filled the room. Kelly’s terrified gaze locked
on Devlin now. She seemed more afraid of him than of the man who’d whipped her and
tied her to the bed. While she stared in fright at Devlin, Gage lay in a puddle of
his own piss, brokenly sobbing the name of his dead sister.

Devlin slowly lowered himself to the floor and dropped his face in his hands. The
haze of anger drained away, leaving nothing but a hollow, empty space inside him,
and one thought running through his head over and over and over.

What would Emily think of him if she saw him now?

Would she trace her fingers over his tattoos and tell him how she admired him, that
he was a good man? No. She would say he was no better than the men he’d killed, that
he was kidding himself thinking he did what he did to save others, that inside, he
was no better than any of them.

And she’d be right.

“Devlin?” Kelly’s soft voice called to him hesitantly, as if she was afraid he’d hurt
her if she spoke above a whisper.

God, how he despised himself right now.

He holstered his pistol and squatted down in front of her. Her eyes were wide, wary.

He tried to smile, to reassure her, but he didn’t have any smiles left. “I’m not going
to hurt you. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you? I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.
But everything’s going to be okay now.”

He unsheathed the knife at his waist and sliced through the ropes binding her wrists
to the bed. Reaching up, he tugged a blanket down to wrap around her bare shoulders.

She smiled her thanks and gathered the blanket close.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

In answer, she pushed herself to her feet, surprising him with her strength after
what she must have gone through.

“Where’s the other woman?” Devlin asked. “Is she tied up in one of the other rooms?”

She gave him a look of alarm. “Other woman?”

“The woman who escaped, Virginia Hawley, said there were three other women being held
captive. That would have been you, Nancy, and someone else. Am I wrong?”

“Oh, uh, no. There
was
another woman. Poor thing.”

She waved a hand toward Gage, who had pulled himself to a sitting position and scooted
away from the puddle, closer to the wall.

“He killed her, just this morning. It was . . . awful. So awful.” She shuddered.

Devlin tensed. Something wasn’t right. Something was . . . off.

“Yancy, Kelwee keel Yancy.”

Kelly shot Gage an irritated look and grabbed the rope Devlin had just cut off her.
“He’s twisted and crazy,” she spat. “I’ll tie him up so he can’t hurt anyone else.”