The Soldier (Men Who Thrill Book 3) (8 page)

I’d seen this before, seen worse, but something about this sickened me. Susan hadn’t deserved this, and in that moment, I wondered if any of them ever had.

I looked toward the General. “She should’ve knocked.”

With that proclamation, he swung his feet off the desk and stood. “We have business to conclude,” he said to me. Then, tilting his head toward Susan’s body he continued, “Have someone come clean that up.”

And then he left.

Chapter Fifteen

Much as headquarters had, Titan seemed the same on the surface, but I viewed it in an entirely new light, the ordinary building now ominous, the long hallways sinister. I rode the elevator with the General and his guards and counted as we went down five stories and then three stories lower.

When the metal doors opened, we were in the bowels of Titan Industries, in the place that held secrets, research, things that were measured in lives and not dollars. I followed the General down a short corridor and into a small room. He closed and locked the door once I’d entered.

My gaze was immediately drawn to Jordan, who sat in a metal chair, feet bare, dressed in the shorts and T-shirt as she had been every time I’d gone to her place, that she’d been wearing the first time I’d touched her and every time after. She was still plain, too curvy for my tastes, and the woman loved so much that I was about to lay my life on the line for her.

Unable to offer her reassurance, but desperately wanting to, I looked to my left and saw the General. He stared back at me, having watched the exchange with Jordan. His expression turned in a scowl.

“This is sorely disappointing,” he said.

“Funnily enough I feel the same way,” I responded.

That got his attention off Jordan and back to me. “Do tell.”

“I fought for you. I killed for you. And I’m so stupid that I thought it was for the greater good,” I said.

“And that’s what makes you perfect, or rather made you perfect. You were always so certain, thought you were doing what was right, and not doing what you were told,” the General said.

“A rare quality, and let me tell you, nothing’s more motivational than the lies we tell ourselves. You pretend to be a good, pretend that all those lives you took, lives you destroyed were for some greater good,” he said.

Then he laughed, his face lit by unbridled amusement. “Don’t you get it? God. Country Family. Meaningless. There is no greater good. There’s only me, and what I want. And you can lie to yourself, pretend that you did all those horrible things for a good reason. But I know the truth, and deep down, you do too.”

His expression turned stoic. “You do those unspeakable things because you like them. Admit it. There’s no drug, no woman,” he looked at Jordan, a sneer crossing his face before he wiped it away, “no amount of money that even touches the pleasure that holding a life in your hands brings. That power, it’s the only real thing that exists. And you crave it, get off on it as much as I do. But, unlike you, I don’t need to lie to myself. You should thank me,” he said. “I simply gave you permission to be your true self.”

He was right.

I
had
lied to myself, had alleviated the guilt by placing blame at the General’s feet. I couldn’t fix that, couldn’t ever hope to make amends, but I could save her life.

“I see that now. And I regret I won’t ever be able to do anything about it. But let her go. You have me,” I said.

I heard Jordan’s breathing change, but I didn’t look at her, needing to be completely focused on the General.

“I’m flattered that you think enough of me to take my word for it. To trust me with her. But that’s not sufficient. As noble as your sacrifice would be, it does me no good. So how about this? Kill her, and let’s go back to the way things were,” the General said.

“Never.”

The General shrugged nonchalantly. “Your choice. But if you don’t kill her, I will.”

I looked at Jordan then, saw the pure fear on her face. And then I tried to imagine that face warped with pain, and then finally, after however long it took for her to accept that the pain would never stop, resignation.

He wouldn’t let her die until then, and knowing Jordan as I did, knowing that no matter what she was on the outside that she had the heart of a lion, I knew that she would suffer unfathomable punishment before she broke and the General ended her misery.

I couldn’t let that happen to her.

I’d be doing her a favor, ending it now. There was no out, no solution that involved Jordan making it from this place unscathed, making it out at all.

The only question was whether I could do it, kill her to save her.

I extended my hand toward the General. “Weapon,” I said tersely.

Jordan’s faint whimper pierced me, but I ignored it, my eyes trained on the General.

“No. Use your hands. I want you to feel this, remember the cost of insubordination. And who knows? Maybe you’ll enjoy it.”

Jordan went silent, and I could only imagine what she felt. The General spoke with absolute certainty, and despite what we’d shared, how I felt, all she knew was that I was in league with the person who had kidnapped her.

I approached, the five steps separating us the feeling simultaneously a vast gulf and not nearly far enough. But in the blink of an eye I was standing in front of her, and I saw the shudder of her body, the way she cowered with fear.

And when I looked into her eyes, the heart that I had left shattered into a million pieces. The General hadn’t lifted a finger, but he’d broken her.

I had broken her.

Slowly, I lifted my hands and placed them on her shoulders. At my touch she jumped and then whimpered, and I again felt the squeeze of a vise around my chest. But I couldn’t be deterred.

Whatever she felt now would pale in comparison to what the General had in store.

I gripped her shoulders for a moment and then moved my hands up, letting my fingers linger over the T-shirt and then the soft skin of her neck. When my hands bracketed the sides of her neck, thumbs lying atop one another, set in the perfect position in to crush her windpipe I again looked into her eyes.

The fear was gone.

Her lips trembled, as did her body, but whereas her eyes had been marred with fear and resignation they now spewed defiance. I’d expected it, knew that this very thing would only make the General hurt her more.

I wanted to look away but couldn’t, and as I stood, hands wrapped around the delicate column of her throat, the powerlessness that I’d felt before was nothing. Her eyes accused me, and condemned me, not just for her, for all the others who had come before her, the ones who would come after.

I felt the strong
thud
of her pulse under my hand, the movement of her muscles as she swallowed nervously, an involuntary reaction, the heat of her gaze burning my skin like the hottest fires of hell.

“I’m sorry, Jordan. Brace yourself,” I whispered.

I waited an instant, watched the words register and then, using all my might, I pushed, tipping the chair and sending Jordan with it over. I heard the
clang
of the metal, and out of the corner of my eye, saw Jordan’s head bang against the hard concrete.

I didn’t go to her though. Instead, in a breath, I rushed toward the General, who had retrieved his side arm. I closed the distance between us as rapidly as I could, but he had time to get a round off.

The burn of the bullet piercing my shoulder and shattering the bone was painful, but through the adrenaline-fueled haze and urgency of this moment, I pushed the pain aside and continued my pursuit.

I reached the General before he fired again, using my size and strength to wrestle the gun away with relative ease. But the fight wasn’t nearly over. He clawed at my wound, pushing his thumb into the frayed edges of the hole in my shoulder.

My knees weakened, and I cried out, but I didn’t loosen my grip, and instead, using my height and weight advantage, pushed him against the wall and banged his head against it until the gray door was red with his blood.

I felt him slacken and then slapped his face to get his attention.

“You had others doing your dirty work too long, General,” I said. Without turning, I called over my shoulder, “Jordan, are you okay?”

“Yeah…yes,” she said, her voice shaky but strong.

“Come here.”

I heard her soft footsteps as she approached and chanced a quick glance at her. She didn’t seem any worse for the wear, so I turned my attention back to the General.

“Weapons,” I said.

He discarded his holster, the smaller revolver tucked in his boot, and the knife that he kept at his back. I checked his waistband and pulled out the last weapon. Another one of the tricks I’d learned through the years with him.

“What do you hope to gain? You know there’s no way out of this,” he said.

“Maybe I just want the power of holding your life in my hands. You said it yourself, there’s nothing better.”

His eyes narrowed then, and for the first time in our entire acquaintance, he was human, nervous.

“Jordan, stay behind me. Let’s go,” I said, gesturing toward the door with the weapon I held.

My shoulder was screaming with pain, and I was nervous myself, having no real clue whether this gambit would work. But when Jordan put her hand on my back I felt instant comfort, though who knew how long it would last.

“Tell them to open the door,” I said.

“It’s okay, guys. Open it,” the General yelled, looking up at the camera above the door.

The door opened and the room was immediately full of the General’s men, who had weapons trained on me.

“You shoot me, and she’s dead before I hit the ground,” he said.

“They shoot her, and you’re dead before she hits the ground,” I said.

“Have it your way, but just so you know, when this is over, I’m going to watch you peel every nail off her fingers, make you hold her down while you do it. And you then you will kill her, watch as the life leaves her body. And after that, I’m going to make you live.”

Jordan’s fingers curled into my back, and she trembled.

I believed every word that he said, but I couldn’t let him know that.

“You’re in no position to make threats, General. And no matter what happens, you’ll be gone before either one of us. I promise.”

Then I took a step toward the door. The General let himself go slack, the unexpected weight creating strain on my injured arm. It was a delay, a tactical maneuver designed to take advantage of my pain, but I didn’t fall for the ploy.

Instead I tightened my fingers against his throat, piercing his skin and smiling at the warm rush of blood against my fingertips. He got the message and started taking small steps as we crossed the door frame.

I moved in a wide arc, keeping my back to the wall, Jordan behind me.

“Take the shot,” the General said loudly.

The guards had their guns trained on me, and they’d been joined by friends. Now there were six of them. Impossible odds.

“Take the shot,” the General repeated, a bit more urgency now in his tone.

“If they take the shot, you’re not getting out of here,” I said.

“Don’t underestimate my guys. They are the best, and you know it. You trained most of them after all,” he said.

And he was right.

I’d taught most, if not all of them, knew that the likelihood of me making it out of here was slim, none if I was being pessimistic, which I was. I could take the General out before they got rid of me, but that would leave Jordan stuck. Dead.

There was only one way out.

Chapter Sixteen

I looked at each of the men, holding their gazes for a second before moving to the next.

“You can take the shot, but just remember, the next time, it might be you.”

I looked at each of them again.

“Just like it’s me now,” I turned my gaze on the person who had accompanied me and the General, “and the poor innocent woman from upstairs,” I said, holding his gaze for even longer. “I know what you think you’re doing. Hell, a week ago I was one of you, believed as strongly as you do now. But this isn’t the way.”

“Take the shot!” the General screamed.

I looked at them, and as I did, the sound of my heartbeat, the rush of blood through my body drowned out everything else except the feeling of Jordan’s fingers clenched around my shirt. I expected the bullets, tried to imagine the pain in my shoulder multiplied by a million and then the silence that would follow.

And I waited, gun pressed against the General’s temple, my earlier promise that he would go with us not an idle threat.

And waited.

And there was nothing

“Take the goddamn shot,” the General said in his most commanding tone.

Still there was nothing.

The sharp elbow pulled me back to the present, and the next thing, I knew the General again had his thumb pressed against my wound and used his other hand to wrestle the gun away. I held my grip tight, but every muscle in my body went rigid as the gun waved wildly, perilously close to Jordan.

“Jordan, go,” I said, and she rushed away, crouching in a nearby corner.

The General pushed my arm with his full force, attempting to train the gun on her, so I let it go, the metal against the concrete loud in the confined space. I kicked it away.

And then I attacked.

The General was strong, wily, but he was out of practice, and I soon had him.

“You can still live,” I said, fingers wrapped around his throat.

Instead of responding, he shoved his thumb deeper, and I cried out from the pain.

His answer was clear.

And so was mine.

I crushed my hands around his throat, felt the bones snap, heard his low wheeze, and then felt the slackening of his hands, and then the rest of his body, as he went limp.

I let him drop and then stared down at his lifeless form.

All of the air squeezed from my lungs, and the room went silent, eerie in its calm. I turned, slowly, looking at the men in the room, trying to convey that I was in no way a threat. And then, moving as quickly as I dared, I went to Jordan.

Her face was impassive, but her eyes were haunted. But they were also clear, focused, a sign that if nothing else, the blow to her head hadn’t been too damaging. At least not physically. When I lifted my hands toward her, she jumped back. It was understandable, given all that had happened today. But it stung.