Cross Fire, page 31
Jefferson nodded and ducked out of the room without a word.
“I’m gonna take another walk around the perimeter,” Mike announced. “If you’re good here.” He nodded specifically toward Jordan, and there was a glimmer of concern in his eyes.
Kristen smiled, and it was warmer than I had expected. “I can handle him. Let me know if you find any more uninvited guests lurking in the trees.”
Mike returned her smile and left.
“So are you gonna uncuff me?” Jordan asked.
“No,” Kristen said flatly. “You’re under arrest for interfering with a federal case.”
“Well, you can’t exactly throw me in jail. You would either have to call the police to come pick me up, which would betray the safe house location, or have one of your guys transport me, which would leave Holly poorly protected. I don’t think you’re willing to do either.”
“Make yourself comfortable, smart guy, because you’re gonna be in that chair a while.”
She walked over to the glass doors to look into the trees around the back of the house.
“Hey,” Jordan said as I approached. “You doing okay?”
I smiled as I folded myself into one of the chairs. “I’m not the one who was just shoved facedown in the dirt.”
He squinted his eyes. “You know, I’ve noticed that you almost never answer that question. You always manage to deflect it back to me.”
I widened my eyes innocently.
He lowered his head and laughed. “Right. You’re fine.”
“Aren’t I always?”
“Yeah, even when you’re not.”
He shifted in his chair, grimacing a little as he struggled to find a comfortable position, and I caught a glimpse of his bound wrists.
There was something utterly terrifying about being restrained and helpless. I remembered that feeling with unsettling clarity.
I didn’t realize I was rubbing at the scars on my wrists until Jordan asked, “Are you all right?”
My eyes drifted to his, and the warm compassion that pooled in them momentarily froze me. I moved my hands to my lap beneath the table and forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
He searched my face. “You don’t look fine.”
I pressed my lips together as I considered whether or not to share my thoughts with him. “Just thinking about . . .” I gestured to his handcuffed wrists.
Something changed in his expression, and he readjusted in his chair so the handcuffs were no longer visible. “About what happened with Edward?”
“No,” I said, surprised. I hadn’t been thinking about Edward at all.
“Collin?” he asked, studying me. “Did he use handcuffs when he”—my shoulders stiffened in anticipation of his next word, and he seemed to reconsider—“when he attacked you two years ago?”
My eyes fell to the table. “I don’t wanna talk about that night, okay?”
Silence fell between us, and I felt a twinge of guilt. He was trying so hard to rebuild our friendship, but every time he asked me an uncomfortable question, I refused to answer, and it felt like I was pushing him back a step.
I drew in a shaky breath, hesitated, and then whispered, “He used zip ties.” I swallowed the bile on the back of my tongue. “It took me six hours to finally get free.”
When I looked up, Jordan’s expression was clouded with pain and regret. “I’m sorry.”
His sympathy made me uncomfortable, and I looked away again.
He slumped back in the chair. “I wish I could’ve been there to keep you safe. Not just that night, but . . . every time he hurt you.”
Was that why he was here now? Because he regretted not being there to protect me then? I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel about that.
I drew in a quick breath and said, “I’m gonna grab a snack. Do you want something?”
“Only if you’re willing to feed it to me.”
I paused at the unsettling thought and then slipped out of the chair before the conversation could descend any further into awkwardness. I walked to the counter to grab an apple.
“Copy, thanks. Keep me updated,” Kristen said before dropping the two fingers she had pressed to the earpiece.
“Well? Does this mean we’re not leaving?” I asked as I plucked an apple from the bowl.
“Not at the moment,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at us. “The car’s clean, but we still don’t know if he was followed. Stay away from the windows and doors, and don’t go anywhere in the house alone until Mike radios back that the grounds are secure.”
I rummaged through the refrigerator for something Jordan could have. I pulled out a juice box. It wasn’t food, but it was something. I popped the straw into the box and set it on the table in front of him as I curled back up in my chair with my apple.
He arched an eyebrow at me. “A juice box, huh? I haven’t had one of these since grade school.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“Nope,” he smiled, leaned down, and took a sip. He grimaced as he swallowed. “Grape.”
“Oh, I forgot you were never a fan of grape.”
“Grape is a thousand times better than cherry. Cherry tastes like cough syrup.”
I scrunched my nose at that remark. “I happen to like cherry.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I know.”
I rolled the apple between my hands. I had no desire to eat it; I had just needed a reason to get up from the table. “You shouldn’t have come,” I finally said. “Now you’re in trouble with the federal government.”
“I wasn’t just gonna sit on my hands when I knew your life was in danger.”
“Sitting with your hands in cuffs is better?”
“If it means I’m here with you, then yeah. No question.”
I sighed. “It’s not your job to protect me, Jordan. It never was. Not when we were kids, not when Collin . . .” I let that thought trail off as I shied away from the memories. “And not now. The last thing I want is you risking your life or your freedom out of some misguided sense of obligation or guilt.”
Jordan was shaking his head before I even finished speaking. “My being here has nothing to do with obligation or guilt, Holly. I just got you back a few months ago, and I’m not about to let something happen to you.”
I looked down at my apple and picked at the shiny skin with a fingernail, leaving small crescent marks across the surface.
I didn’t understand why he cared so much; the little girl he once loved no longer existed. She died years ago. I was a completely different person, one with a history full of land mines.
“I can’t be the girl you remember,” I said. “The childhood friend you’re still trying to protect. I wish I could be, but I’ll never be that carefree, trusting girl who was afraid of nothing.” I looked up to meet his eyes. “She’s gone. So if you’re hoping to get that person back, then—”
“She’s not gone,” he cut in. “You’re not gone. You adapted to survive terrible circumstances, but you didn’t lose yourself.” After a moment, he added carefully, “And Collin didn’t destroy you.”
I closed my eyes to hold back the unexpected tears.
“Despite eighteen years and all the challenges you’ve faced, I still see the compassionate heart of the girl who was my best friend. You have that same determined fire that got us into so much trouble, and you still crinkle your nose when you disagree with something. And your attitude still outweighs you by fifty pounds.”
That sparked a laugh and sent the tears spilling over. I wiped them away.
He smiled. “Everything about the girl I knew is still there. I just have eighteen years of catching up to do.”
I tucked my lips between my teeth as I absorbed his words. “Thank you,” I said quietly.
“For what?”
“For . . . caring, I guess.”
One side of his mouth curled in amusement. “You realize you don’t actually have to thank me for that.”
I shrugged and stared awkwardly at the table. “It takes some getting used to, and I’m . . . trying. It means a lot that you care despite the fact that I keep almost getting you killed.”
“That’s not exactly how I remember it. More like trouble keeps finding you, and I happen to be there.”
Happen to be there? Really?
“You have a very strange idea of . . .” I bit off my words when Kristen stiffened by the glass doors, her attention fixing on something outside.
She drew her gun and backed away slowly as she touched her earpiece. “I have a possible intruder on the south side of the property.”
Jordan straightened. “What?”
“Holly, this is that moment we discussed,” Kristen announced as she flipped off the kitchen light, leaving the inside of the house murky with darkness, while the outside glowed with security lights.
Fear threaded through me. I grabbed Jordan’s phone off the counter in case I needed to call for help and whispered, “We have to go. Upstairs.”
Jordan stood and moved with me, putting himself between me and the glass doors despite the fact that he was unarmed and bound.
“Stop that,” I scolded. “They have no intention of killing me. We’d both be safer if I was standing in front of you.”
“Yeah, I don’t like that plan.”
When Kristen snapped her gun up, he shoved me into the wall with his shoulder. I heard the gunshot a split second before the glass shattered.
A man outside the window lurched forward with his gun still raised, and then tumbled down the slope onto the lawn.
25
Kristen crept forward across the broken glass to check the gunman who had landed facedown on the ground. She nudged him over onto his back while keeping her gun trained on him.
She studied his face for a moment and then her hand went to the earpiece. “We’re compromised,” she said in a low voice. “Keep an eye on the trees, gentlemen. They’re probably crawling.”
She took her own advice: backing through the doorway with her weapon fixed on the trees. She cast Jordan a venomous glare as she passed him. “We need to move. Now.” She all but dragged me out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
“Who was that guy?” I asked.
She moved down the hallway ahead of me on light toes, and I strove to tread with equal softness between her and Jordan.
“Darnell, the enforcer you identified as one of your attempted kidnappers. If he’s here, the rest aren’t far behind,” she answered without looking back at me. Her attention was fully focused on the hallway ahead of us.
Fear sparked in my chest, and I looked up at Jordan. He drew in an uneasy breath and said, “It’s gonna be okay.” But I saw the glitter of fear in his eyes.
“That wasn’t very convincing,” I murmured back, and he pressed his lips together. He was unarmed and handcuffed; he was completely defenseless if the enforcers breached the house.
“Uncuff me and let me have my gun. I can help.”
“You’re the reason we’re in this mess. I’m not doing you any favors.” She pressed a hand to her earpiece and asked quietly, “How’s my perimeter looking, guys?”
She paused to listen and then winced when the sound of gunshots crackled through the earpiece loudly enough for us to hear. Jordan and I turned back toward the shots that echoed off the trees around the back of the house.
Kristen readjusted her earpiece and called out, “Mike. Jefferson.”
Glass shattered somewhere in front of us, and Kristen returned both hands to her gun as she stilled, listening. A quiet thump announced someone crawling through a window, followed by the soft crunch of footsteps.
They were inside the house.
Kristen inched forward to the edge of the hallway. She jerked back abruptly, and plaster exploded an inch from her face as a bullet bit through the corner of the wall.
“Back up,” she instructed, and Jordan and I shuffled backwards.
Kristen leaned forward a fraction and snapped back to avoid a second bullet. It sank into the wall adjacent to us. If it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have seen the shadow stretching into the hall from the kitchen.
Someone was behind us.
I wasn’t sure if it was one of Kristen’s people or one of the intruders.
“Kristen,” I whispered urgently.
Her attention shifted to me and then slid past me to the shadow just as a man stepped into the hallway. It definitely wasn’t one of her people.
I saw the glint of his gun a split second before she barked, “Down!”
I clamped my hands over my ears and dropped to a crouch next to Jordan a second before she fired. He curled his body over me protectively, and fear stabbed my heart when I heard the gunman squeeze off a single wild shot before collapsing.
“Jordan,” I gasped, afraid he’d been hit.
“I’m fine.” I felt rather than heard the rumble of his words from his chest as I huddled against him. I uncurled just in time to see the first shooter plow into Kristen from behind and take her to the floor. Her gun skidded across the living room floor and disappeared beneath the couch.
She rolled around on the floor with the man in a tangle of jerking limbs before he managed to twist on top of her. I saw the confusion register in his expression the moment he saw her face.
“You’re not the one I’m looking for.”
“Yeah, I hear that a lot,” she muttered.
When he pointed his gun at her head, she grabbed his arm, wrapped a leg around his neck, and flipped him onto his back. She jerked his arm, and he let out a howl of pain as something snapped. The gun dropped from his fingers.
The man kicked up at her, and she released his arm as she rolled out of the way. He staggered to his feet as her rolling retreat brought her gracefully to hers.
Jordan sat down and quickly maneuvered his bound arms under his legs so that his hands were in front of him. “I’m going for the gun,” he whispered to me. “Stay down.” He slunk carefully down the hall toward the dead intruder.
I crouched there, unsure what to do. I watched Kristen dip beneath her opponent’s brutal swing and then land a kick to his midsection that knocked him back. I wished I knew how to fight like that.
I was so focused on the scuffle that I didn’t see the third man until it was too late. He came around the corner and caught me by the arm before I could do anything more than suck in a frightened breath.
“Jordan!” I screamed, fighting to break free as the man wrenched me toward him.
Jordan’s head snapped up from the body in the hallway, and he shot to his feet, bringing his gun up to aim at the man who was trying to drag me from the room.
My captor, who was scarcely taller than I was, hauled me in front of him as a shield, and Jordan hesitated. I cringed as pain shattered my eardrums when the man pulled the trigger. Jordan dove into the kitchen.
I twisted violently as the man dragged me through the living room and into the foyer. He snapped something at me, but the ringing in my ears drowned out his voice. I got the message, though, when he shifted his grip to my waist and picked me up: stop slowing me down. He carried me through the foyer toward the open front door.
I planted my feet against the frame. I was not going out that door.
I kicked off with every ounce of force my legs could muster, and sent both of us tumbling to the floor. I landed on top of him, and he let out a breathless cough.
Before I could scramble off him, he rolled, and I let out a frantic shriek as his weight pressed me into the floorboards. I clawed for the gun that had slipped from his fingers on impact, but it was out of reach.
Then his weight was suddenly gone. I rolled over and looked up just in time to see Jordan wrap an arm around the man’s neck and squeeze. The man flailed, gasping for breath.
I stared into his frightened eyes and swallowed. I had been in that position before with Collin, and I could empathize. After what felt like agonizingly long minutes but was probably only seconds, the man went limp. Jordan dropped him carelessly onto the floor as Kristen came in. She looked a little unsteady on her feet, but she was still in one piece.
“Okay,” she exhaled. “I know when to give in.” She pulled a small silver key from her pocket and tossed it to Jordan.
“Thanks.” He uncuffed himself and rolled the unconscious man over onto his face before handcuffing his wrists together. “How’d your guy fare?”
She grimaced. “He won’t be needing any handcuffs.” She offered a hand to me and pulled me to my feet with a small wince. She must have been hurt, but I didn’t see any obvious injuries. “You all right?”
“Fine, thanks.”
“Good.” Her eyes flicked to the figure lying on the front stoop, and she froze.
I couldn’t see the man’s face from where I stood, but I recognized the uniform. It was one of her people. She crossed the foyer and crouched along the inside wall.
She pressed two fingers to the neck of the motionless male figure, and I saw the fine mist of tears that collected in her eyes before she blinked.
“Good-bye, Mike,” she whispered, and I heard the anguish in her voice. She kissed two fingers and pressed them to his lips.
She collected his radio earpiece, gun, and cuffs before rising. “Let’s go.” She tossed the earpiece to Jordan. “I assume the offer to help still stands.”
Jordan nodded once as he pressed the earpiece into his right ear.
“Good. I’m at least one man down, so I appreciate the backup.”
The lights overhead abruptly went out, and I heard a curse slip from Kristen’s lips. She stepped closer to me, and I saw the silhouette of her gun as she angled it toward the open front door.
“You got her?” she asked.
I didn’t understand the question, but Jordan answered. “Yeah, I got her.” He started up the steps, which were awash with shadows from the exterior lights. “Come on, Holly.”
I hesitated, confused. “Kristen, aren’t you coming?”
“No. Get to the safe room and call for help.”
“But . . . what about you? What are you gonna do?”
“What I do best. Shoot the wings off flies.” She gave me a gentle, backwards shove toward the steps and whispered with urgency, “Now go.”
