Take the Key and Lock Her Up (43 page)

“Wait, what are you doing? Do you have another gun?”

“I’ve got this.” He patted the lethal-looking knife sheathed at his waist, the one
he’d used to slice her ropes. “And I’ve got you as my backup. What could go wrong?”

He winked and leaned down to kiss her. The throbbing pain of her burns faded as his
lips worked their magic, so soft, so sweet, so achingly gentle because he was trying
not to brush up against her burns. He ended the kiss and before she opened her eyes
again, he was gone.

Her shock quickly turned to frustration. How could she back him up if he kept leaving
her behind? The man had no clue how to be a partner, or how to accept help from anyone
else. He’d been a loner for far too long. It was high time he learned how to let someone
else help him.

She knew firsthand how ruthless and violent Ace could be. So she wasn’t going to sit
and cower while Devlin risked his life for her. Or while Pierce lay somewhere hurt.
But she wasn’t going to run into the middle of anything either. She couldn’t let fear
or adrenaline control her. She had to stay calm, focused, and think things through.

Clutching the gun down by her side, she carefully made her way through the woods,
looking and listening for anything that could tell her Ace or Devlin’s location.

A shout sounded from the two o’clock position. She twisted to the right, toward the
noise, aiming her pistol in a steady, two-handed grip.

Suddenly, Ace and Devlin crashed through the bushes a few feet ahead of her, their
arms wrapped around each other like two grizzlies fighting for control. They staggered
into the clearing.

Emily hurried after them, both hands wrapped around her pistol, arms bent with the
muzzle pointed straight up but ready to use if she got an opening. Her stomach dropped
when she saw the gun holstered at Ace’s side. Devlin’s knife was sheathed. The men
must have surprised each other in the woods, and neither of them had been able to
go for their weapons.

With their similar heights and muscular builds, neither seemed to be able to get the
advantage as they strained against each other, grappling for control. Their grunts
and curses echoed through the clearing. Devlin’s biceps bulged as he shoved a hand
beneath Ace’s chin and slowly pressed his head back at an awkward angle.

Ace suddenly twisted, breaking Devlin’s hold. Ace shoved him back with one hand while
he clawed for his gun with the other.

They were too close together. Emily couldn’t risk a shot.

“Devlin, gun at your nine o’clock!”

Devlin dropped his legs out from under him, throwing Ace off-balance. He fell on top
of Devlin, the gun skittering across the ground. They shoved apart and both came up
in a crouch, facing each other.

“Damn you, Buchanan. I should have killed you a long time ago, when you tried to have
me thrown out of EXIT.” Ace threw a punch at Devlin’s jaw, but he ducked out of the
way.

Devlin slammed his fist into Ace’s belly, doubling him over. He followed with an uppercut
to the jaw that threw Ace backward. But when Devlin dove toward him, Ace scrambled
out of the way and backhanded Devlin with a two-fisted hold.

Emily clutched the gun, biting her bottom lip. She wanted to shout at Devlin, to tell
him to move, to get away from Ace, to let her help him. But she said none of those
things. She couldn’t risk distracting him and giving Ace an advantage.

Devlin roared like a caged bull and charged at Ace, wrapping his arms around him and
sending both of them crashing to the ground again. The two men pummeled each other
with their fists, grunting and shouting. Every time one of them seemed to be winning,
the other would twist away or force him back.

The gun was useless with them this close. If Emily was going to help Devlin, she needed
a different weapon. She shoved the gun in her waistband and ran from the clearing,
digging behind bushes, searching for something, anything she could use to help. There,
a broken branch on the ground, long and thick like a baseball bat. The thought of
actually hitting someone with it sickened her, but if it meant saving Devlin, that’s
what she would do. She quickly stripped off the smaller branches and ran with her
makeshift club.

They were on their feet again, slower than before, chests heaving. Both of them sported
swollen eyes and cheeks. Blood ran down the side of Ace’s face from a cut on his forehead.

Ace suddenly dove for his pistol, lying on the ground. Devlin jumped on top of him,
but not before Ace got his hands on the gun. They wrestled for control. Ace twisted
the barrel higher, toward Devlin’s head.

Emily raised her tree branch and hurried toward them. But before she could take a
swing, Devlin suddenly pitched forward, slamming against Ace’s shoulder. The gun disappeared
between the two men.

Emily jumped out of the way.

Devlin worked his knees up between the two of them and gave a powerful shove, knocking
Ace backward, putting daylight between them again. He immediately grabbed the wicked-looking
hunting knife from its sheath and reared back, both hands wrapped around the knife’s
hilt.

At the same time, Emily dropped her branch and grabbed for her gun.

But Ace was already whirling around toward Devlin, his pistol in his hand again. Devlin
plunged the knife into Ace’s left thigh. The pistol fired harmlessly into the trees
above but did nothing to block out the agonized sound of Ace’s scream. The gun dropped
from Ace’s hand as he arched off the ground.

Devlin twisted the knife, making Ace scream even louder, before jerking it out of
Ace’s thigh with a wet, sucking sound that had Emily’s stomach clenching. Devlin held
it over his head, both hands wrapped around the hilt, ready to deal a lethal blow.

“Wait!” Emily and Ace both yelled at the same time.

“Devlin,” Emily begged, “please, don’t do this. He’s unarmed. Killing him now isn’t
self-defense. It’s cold-blooded murder.”

“It’s justice,” Devlin growled. He raised the knife higher.

“Wait,” Ace cried out again. He gasped and clutched his thigh. “Wait. If you let me
go, I give you my word of honor that I’ll never go after anyone in your family again.
Or the cop. I’ll leave her alone too. I swear.”

Devlin laughed without humor. “Your word of honor? You gave up all honor when you
went after my family in the first place. Your word is no good to me.”

“If you kill me, your brother dies,” Ace yelled. “He’s hurt. You’ll never find him
in time without my help.”

Devlin hesitated. “You lie,” he snarled.

“No, no. I’m telling the truth.” He grimaced, his face blanching.

Emily didn’t think Ace was lying. Apparently, neither did Devlin because he lowered
the knife.

He dropped to his knees, straddled Ace’s chest, and held the knife against his throat,
pressing so hard that blood ran down his neck. Ace hissed and tilted his head back,
trying to escape the pressure.

“Where is he?” Devlin demanded. “Tell me or you die.”

“That’s not how it works,” he said through clenched teeth. “Help me. Bind my wound
before I bleed out. Then I’ll show you where he is.”

Devlin pressed the knife harder.

Ace gasped and writhed against the ground. Lines of blood ran down from beneath Devlin’s
knife.

Emily couldn’t stand by and watch Devlin torture Ace, no matter what the man had done.
She ran up beside Devlin and pointed her pistol at Ace.

“You can let him go now. I’ve got him covered. He can’t get away.”

Devlin suddenly grabbed her pistol, wrenching it out of her grasp. To her horror,
he jammed the gun into Ace’s mouth. Ace let out a guttural moan, his face contorting
in pain.

“Where is he?” Devlin demanded.

“Please,” Emily begged. “Don’t do this. It’s not right.”

His cold, dark gaze bore into hers. “What’s not right is my baby brother lying in
a hospital bed in agonizing pain, fighting for his life. What’s not right is my father
nearly dying, and losing everything he worked for his entire life. What’s not right
is this bastard hurting
you
to get to me. Don’t ask me to politely question him like you would, Emily. You’re
asking too much.”

“Would Alex, or Pierce, or even Austin want you to do this on their behalf?” she whispered.
“Because I sure don’t.”

He stiffened. The answer was there in his eyes.
No
. His father and brother had dedicated their lives to upholding the law. Neither of
them would approve of treating a prisoner this way.

“Please, Dev. Don’t. For
me
, don’t.”

He stared at her for a long time, resentment and anger waging a war across his face.
He finally blew out a deep breath, and Emily knew she’d won.

Or had she just lost everything?

He looked down at Ace.

His eyes were glazed with pain, but he must have sensed the subtle shift and known
he’d been given a reprieve because he suddenly smiled around the bore of the gun.
Blood painted his teeth red, giving him a horrifying appearance, as if the devil himself
had emerged from the gates of hell to punish his adversaries.

“Where is he?” Devlin asked again.

In spite of the gun jammed between his teeth, Ace slowly moved his head left and right,
letting Devlin know he wasn’t going to tell him unless Devlin met his demands.

Devlin yanked the gun out of Ace’s mouth with as much force as when he’d shoved it
in. Ace let out a shout of pain and rage and grabbed his bleeding mouth with both
hands.

“Emily,” Devlin said, his voice cold as he climbed to his feet, “hold the gun on him.
If he moves, shoot him. In the head.” He handed her the gun, slippery with Ace’s blood.

Ace narrowed his eyes, his hatred like a living, breathing thing, palpable in the
air between them. Emily stood out of reach of Ace’s hands and feet and waited to see
what Devlin would do next.

He yanked his shirt off, revealing the Kevlar vest beneath, scarred and torn from
the bullets it had stopped, reminding Emily of how close he’d come to being killed
by the very man she’d just asked him to save. He used his knife to cut strips of cloth
from his shirt and shoved Ace’s leg up so he could bind the wound.

Ace sucked in a breath and cursed in what sounded like a dozen different languages.
Devlin pulled the strips tight without any apparent concern for the extra pain he
was causing his adversary by being so rough. He shot a glance at Emily, as if daring
her to say something.

She pursed her lips and remained silent.

He finished his task and sat back. “I thought I shot you back by the ambulance.”

“Flesh wound,” Ace whispered, his voice ragged. “I thought I shot
you
.”

“Nope,” Devlin lied. “Missed completely.”

Ace laughed, blood spitting out of his mouth. “Liar.”

“Where’s my brother?” Devlin demanded.

“East. I’ll show you. But you’ll have to carry me.” He waved toward his leg. “I can’t
walk like this.”

Devlin hauled him to his feet. “Sure you can.” He shoved Ace toward the trees.

Ace stumbled but managed to stay upright. He glared his hatred at Devlin before limping
out of the clearing.

Without a word, Devlin took his gun from Emily and walked behind Ace.

“Hurry up.” Devlin shoved his gun in Ace’s back, pushing him forward.

“Bastard,” Ace bit out, stumbling again and nearly falling.

The burns on Emily’s face throbbed and ached, and yet she couldn’t help the sympathy
that welled inside her each time Ace sucked in a sharp breath or tried to lean against
a tree for support, only to be prodded forward by Devlin’s gun against his spine.

“The rope he used to tie me up is still back in the clearing,” she said. “We could
use my shirt to rig a stretcher for—”

“No.” Devlin’s clipped reply left no room for argument.

When they reached the gravel road where Devlin and Pierce had both parked their vehicles,
Ace waved toward the SUV. “He’s in there, in the back.”

Devlin shoved him out of the way. “You could have told me that back in the clearing.”

Ace grabbed a small sapling, clinging to it for support as he glared at Devlin’s retreating
back. As if sensing Emily watching him, he slowly turned his head and spat a bloody
stream of saliva, barely missing her. He stared at her, as if daring her to do something.

She shivered with revulsion and joined Devlin at the back of the SUV. The cargo door
was down and Pierce lay in the back, his eyes closed. Devlin had hopped inside and
was pressing his fingers against his brother’s neck.

“Is he alive?”

“He’s got a lump on his head, but his pulse is strong.”

A snapping sound had both of them whirling around just in time to see Ace running
at a surprisingly fast clip.

Devlin scrambled out of the back of the SUV and drew his gun, but Ace had already
disappeared into the dark shadows between the trees. Devlin cursed and started after
him.

“Devil?” a groggy voice called out.

Devlin stopped and looked back. Pierce was trying to push himself up, blinking his
eyes as if to focus.

Emily climbed into the back of the SUV and helped him into a sitting position, bracing
his shoulders to keep him from falling back down. Devlin jogged back to the vehicle,
his gun clutched in his hand, his body tense and anxious as he clearly struggled between
his concern for his brother and his desire to go after Ace.

“What happened?” Pierce asked, grabbing the back of his head.

Leaning back, Emily gently felt along his scalp and winced in sympathy. “That’s a
pretty big bump. Ace must have hit you over the head and knocked you out.”

“Ace?”

“One of the people trying to kill us.”

Devlin silently watched them, his face a smooth mask revealing nothing about the thoughts
going on behind his stormy gray eyes.

“Can you fill me in?” Pierce asked. “My brain is in a fog right now.”

“Are you going to explain everything to your brother, Devlin? Or do I have to?” she
snapped. Seriously, he was taking his brooding a little too far.