Breaking Her Rules (17 page)

“Hey! Stop!” A male voice sounded behind her, but she didn’t listen. Didn’t dare slow down or

even look back. Every second counted.

Her legs and lungs burned as she sprinted toward another street and with every strike of her right

foot on the pavement it felt like she was stomping on glass. A few homeless people loitered by a rusty shopping cart but when they saw her, they looked the other way.

Nice.

When she reached the new street, it was empty in both directions. Taking a gamble, she headed

south, then took the first left she came to. Risking a glance behind her, she felt a short burst of relief that no one was behind her. But that didn’t mean Thorton wasn’t lurking in the shadows nearby.

Breathing was difficult, but adrenaline had taken over.

She’d have maybe thirty seconds to find a place to hide. Or more likely fifteen. In light of the

abandoned buildings and empty parking lots full of trash surrounding her, she wasn’t so sure she

wanted to hide in any of the dark entrances she spotted. There were probably worse monsters inside

some of them. And she was leaving a trail of blood for her pursuer to follow.

When she rounded another corner, Iris stopped dead in her tracks. Barely ten feet in front of her

two males who couldn’t be more than nineteen lounged against a bright gold convertible with

expensive looking rims. They stopped talking and stared at her.

As her gaze fell lower she realized they both had guns tucked into the front of their jeans. And

neither of them looked happy to see her.

If she got close enough she could disarm one of them, but she wasn’t sure she could disarm two.

Not when she wasn’t at her complete best.

Had she just escaped one monster only to be faced with another nightmare?

Chapter 15

Zac Thorton hurried to the edge of the last abandoned building on the street. He peered around the

corner, but Iris was gone. The woman had moved fast too. He still couldn’t believe she’d escaped.

He’d checked on her a few times and she’d been passed out on the mattress. She should still be

asleep. He hadn’t wanted to dose her too heavy and risk killing her before he got his money, but he should have. Hell, he should have just left her tied up in the chair, but had wanted to show her a little kindness before she died.

Glancing at his watch, his heart rate tripled. Wyatt would be here in less than ten minutes and he

had no hostage. Ideas ran through his head as he tried to get a handle on the situation. He hated being out of control.

He could leave and pretend he’d never been involved in any of this. There was no way Iris had

recognized him. He’d been careful of that. And he’d made sure Mark Keibler took the fall for hiring Sato. Killing his partner had been a difficult choice, but a publicly unknown branch of Thorton

Enterprises had just developed new technology; a type of small, untraceable explosive. It had worked well, too. He’d put the chip right into Keibler’s cell phone. So even if Keibler was dead, he now had data on the extent of damage one chip could do.

When Zac had taken over the company from his deceased father, he’d learned all about his father’s

less-than-reputable dealings. And he’d also taken over his fucking father’s debt. He should have just let the company crumble, but he’d needed to prove to himself and the world that he could turn Thorton Enterprises around even when his father hadn’t been able to. Unfortunately Wyatt Christiansen had

kept stealing deals from him. Buying and breaking apart companies he should have gotten. Zac wasn’t sure how he did it, time after time; maybe the man was paying people off, but no one was that lucky.

With Christiansen and Keibler’s history, pinning everything on Keibler had been easy enough.

Hell, he’d even managed to set up a blind date between Keibler and Sato without personally

becoming involved. If only Christiansen’s wife hadn’t fucked things up.

What the hell was he going to do now?

He turned at a creaking sound behind him. A homeless man pushing a shopping cart was muttering

to himself as he strolled down the cracked sidewalk.

They were in one of the worst areas of town, something that would work to his advantage. He

doubted Iris would be able to find anyone to help her. It wasn’t like she had a cell phone. And forget about payphones. There weren’t any working ones in the vicinity. He knew because he owned ten

square blocks in this abandoned shithole. Well, he’d inherited it. He just hadn’t gotten around to

selling the properties. Not in this buyer’s market.

He looked at his watch again. Five minutes to go. Decision made, Zac sprinted back the way he’d

come, sticking to the shadows. Once he reached the building he’d kept Christiansen’s wife captive in, he slipped inside through an open window space. Then he texted Christiansen the correct address for the meeting place using a throw-away phone he’d purchased an hour ago. He’d originally given

Christiansen the wrong address, but had made sure it was in the same vicinity. Zac hadn’t wanted him trying to assemble a team of his security to infiltrate where he was keeping Iris. Now all he had to do was wait for Christiansen to show up.

Once Zac got the money he deserved, he was the only one leaving the meeting alive.

* * * * *

Wyatt read off the text with the changed address for Vincent and Harrison Caldwell, who were

hiding in the back of his SUV. They’d all known the original address he’d been given wasn’t the

meeting place. Iris’s kidnapper wouldn’t have given them two hours to get there. Still, Harrison had sent someone to scout it out and sure enough, the abandoned building had been empty of all life.

At first Wyatt had been surprised that Caldwell had decided to come on this job personally, but

he’d have done the same thing in Harrison’s position. Iris was one of his people.

Right now she was the only thing that mattered to Wyatt.

“I’m letting the other team know to stay back and move in when we give the go-ahead.” Vincent’s

voice was muffled from where he and Harrison lay covered two seats behind him.

Wyatt knew this was a trap. It had to be. That was why he wasn’t going in alone and why Harrison

had insisted on another security team to back them up. Four other men were in an SUV a few blocks

behind them. They would remain at a static location until Harrison gave them the signal to move in.

Since they hadn’t been able to get any good video feed with Iris’s kidnapper’s face at the hospital, they still weren’t sure who they were after. And her captor hadn’t been lying. He’d disposed of her phone immediately, making it impossible to trace him without knowing who he was first. Zac Thorton

was their biggest suspect so one of Red Stone’s analysts had tracked his phone, but it had been traced to his penthouse suite in downtown Miami. That didn’t mean he wasn’t behind this, but at this point, it could be anyone. Wyatt didn’t give a shit who it was, he just wanted Iris safe and in his arms.

As he steered down the street with no street lights and abandoned apartment buildings, it was like

pulling onto the set of a horror movie. Everything was spray painted and windows were either

missing or boarded up. This wasn’t like the Miami he’d seen so far. Even in the daylight he imagined this place was a desolate hole. “I’m pulling down the street. If the GPS is right, we’ve got exactly half a mile to go.”

“Slow down,” Harrison ordered.

He was only going ten miles an hour, but he slowed to just under five. There was a soft clicking

sound as the back hatch opened, but it closed so quickly he couldn’t believe they’d both managed to exit. “Guys?”

No answer.

Okay, then, it was just him now. Depending on others for backup was hard to do when Iris’s life

was on the line. But he had no choice. Now…fuck, he just had to pray Harrison and Vincent managed

to infiltrate the building and take out Iris’s captor before the guy killed him or Iris.

As Wyatt pulled up to the address he’d been given, his phone buzzed again. Another text.
Get out,
open all the doors to your SUV then walk through the front door. Bring the money. Leave phone

behind, no electronics on you or the bitch is dead.

Then Wyatt received another text with a picture of Iris laying on a mattress, clothed and sleeping.

The picture didn’t mean anything though, it could have been taken earlier. He wanted to demand proof of life and if he didn’t have Red Stone backing him, he would have. As it was, he just wanted to get this guy into the open so someone could take him out and he could save his wife.

Grabbing his briefcase, he dropped the phone into the center console, then did as the text ordered.

He opened all the doors—to show he was alone—then headed up the cracked stone steps leading to

the derelict structure.

The man holding Iris could decide to just put a bullet through his head, but Wyatt doubted he’d do

that outright. It was a calculated risk, but one he was willing to take for his wife. The man had asked for a ransom for a reason. He wanted this money and he wouldn’t take the chance that Wyatt showed

up empty-handed.

“I’m going in,” he murmured, barely moving his lips. The guy might have told him to leave his cell

phone behind, but he wore an earpiece provided to him by Red Stone.

As he reached what had once been a glass door, but was now just an open space with jagged glass

edges around the frame, Vincent’s words stopped him cold. “Get out, Iris isn’t in there.”

Relief slammed into him, but he couldn’t believe it. “Repeat,” he murmured.

“The team just picked her up a couple blocks over. She escaped and a fucking drug dealer actually

let her use his phone to call for help. She’s unharmed and says Zac Thorton took her. Harrison and I are moving in from the back. Get out of here now, we’ll take this guy down.”

Iris was safe.
That was all he needed to know. Now he could face off with that coward Thorton with nothing hanging over his head. The man had come after his wife, his only family, and made this
very
personal. With his Force Recon and weapons training, he knew he could take Thorton on. The guy was clearly smart, but he was just a fucking suit and he’d messed with the wrong guy. There was no way Wyatt was willing to risk this vendetta or whatever it was dragging on longer than tonight. He had to protect Iris. It was his right and he wouldn’t let anything stand in his way. “Negative. I’m going in.” But he wasn’t going in the front door.

Vincent and Harrison both cursed, but Wyatt ignored them and dodged to the side of the doorway.

It was too damn dark to see if anyone was waiting directly inside, but he wasn’t walking in now and making himself a target. Inching along the exterior wall, he crouched down as he half-crawled half-walked. Three windows over, he pulled out his pocket-sized flashlight and peered inside. Graffiti

covered every wall and there were brownish stains on crumbling ceiling tiles, but it was otherwise

empty.

After dropping the briefcase inside, he hoisted himself over then pulled out his Colt .45. Unlike

Iris’s favorite gun, his weapon wasn’t custom-made, but he went to the shooting range monthly and the Marines had taught him how to do many things well—including hit any target.

His shoes were silent against the industrial carpet as he moved. Setting the case against a wall,

Wyatt called on his former military training and swept out into the hall, weapon raised.

Empty.

It was as if he’d never left the Marines as he cleared the next three rooms down the long hallway.

“Back four rooms, west side are clear,” Vincent said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Back four, east side also clear.” This time it was Harrison.

Wyatt quietly gave his status update but paused when he heard a slight shuffling sound somewhere

in front of him. It came from one of the last three rooms he had to clear along this hallway.

Ducking back into one of the rooms he’d just cleared, he grabbed a flat soccer ball with peeling

green paint he’d seen, then cautiously stepped back into the hall. As he neared the next door he paused then hauled back and tossed the ball into the first room like a grenade.

Shots went off, exploding into the quiet with brutal intensity as his decoy worked. Harrison was

asking for a status update in his earpiece, but Wyatt ignored him. “The place is surrounded and I

know you don’t have Iris anymore! Give yourself up, Thorton.”

“Fuck you!” Another three rounds slammed through the plaster of the wall. As far as Wyatt knew,

Thorton didn’t have any training, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get off a lucky shot.

Wyatt rolled to the ground and shot back through the wall in the direction the bullets had come

from. Thorton cried out and Wyatt heard a thump, but he couldn’t be sure if he’d hit him. “Thorton?

You have no leverage anymore and I don’t think you want to die. Come out and we’ll work this out.”

Wyatt didn’t give a shit about working things out, but he wanted Thorton brought to justice. More

importantly, he wanted to know if he had any partners, if Wyatt needed to be worried about anyone

else coming after him or Iris.

“Fuck you.” This time he sounded slurred, unsteady.

“Why are you doing all this, Thorton? I knew your father and he was a good man.” Definitely not

true, but Wyatt wanted to get his guard down. “Did Keibler drag you into this mess because of our

history? Is that what’s going on?”

Harrison informed Wyatt that he and Vincent were on their way, but Wyatt remained in position

outside the door.

At first he thought Thorton wouldn’t respond then he started laughing, the maniacal sound sending a shiver down Wyatt’s spine. “You’re so…fucking arrogant.” He coughed, the sound wet and gurgled,