The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3) (15 page)

Gregg’s eyes were hollow when he finally raised his head.

“I’m sorry, Morgan.” He took a step toward her, lifting the gun, but his hand was far from steady. “I really didn’t think it would end this way.”

“It still doesn’t have to,” she pleaded.

“I’m pretty sure it does,” Gregg said, his finger tightening around the trigger. “It’s you or me.”

Morgan lifted her chin and locked gazes with her brother. This might be it—the end—but that didn’t mean that she was going to make it any easier on him.

If he was going to do this, he could go ahead and carry the image of her defiant stare with him for the rest of his life…however short that might be.

Morgan drew in one last breath and held it.

“Now,” Barinov ordered.

Gregg’s hand shook hard, but Morgan watched as his fingers slowly curled around the trigger. Her shoulders stiffened, waiting for the roar of gunfire—the last sound she’d ever hear.

Morgan’s eyes closed reflexively as a tremendous boom filled the small room. A hot blast of air pushed her back violently and she slid across the slick floor. The back of her head smacked against something hard—a wall, she realized as she opened her eyes.

She looked down her front but didn’t see a drop of blood. She put a hand up to her head but it pulled away clean.

She wasn’t shot.

So what had happened?

Morgan shook her head, trying to clear it. It took a second for her vision to come back into focus, but when they did, she still didn’t believe what she saw.

The room was gutted. The dingy glass was blown out from the windows. The door blown off its hinges. Gregg was collapsed in a corner. Morgan’s eyes darted around the room but she didn’t see Barinov.

Great. It was too much to hope that he had disappeared in a puff of smoke like the devil he was. So where had he gone? And what had happened?

There had been one hell of an explosion, that much was clear. From the cloud of jet black smoke in the far window it looked like it had come from just outside the shack. A gas tank? Propane, maybe?

It didn’t really matter. All that counted was that the blast had happened just when she needed it. What were the chances it was just a coincidence?

“Ty?” Morgan called out.

There was no reply. Not from Ty at any rate, but her shout did manage to rouse Gregg. His head lolled back and forth against his chest.

Damn it.

Morgan didn’t waste any more time. She sprang forward and grabbed the gun. She held it straight out in front of her as she spun around.

Gregg’s eyes widened as he slowly came to. His hands shot up into the air.

“Don’t shoot,” he screamed.

“I’m not going to shoot you, idiot,” Morgan said, rolling her eyes. “Not in the head anyway.”

Though she had to admit that the temptation to clip him in the leg was almost too much to bear.

“Get up,” she ordered. “We need to get out of here before Barinov comes back.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know. I think the blast knocked me out for a second,” she said. “But he couldn’t have gone far. Probably just out to investigate, so we better move quick.”

“Was that your friends from the FBI?” Gregg asked as he rose to his feet. He scooted to the side, over where Barinov’s briefcase had been thrown against the wall.

She let Gregg scoop it up, even though Morgan had a feeling they both wanted it for different reasons.

“I doubt it,” she said, motioning toward the back door with the barrel of the gun. “No one knows where I am.”

“So, Barinov was right. You were bluffing.”

“More like wishful thinking,” Morgan said.

Gregg hesitated as he reached the door. “Are you sure that running out there is a good idea? We don’t knoe what caused the explosion or what’s outside that door.”

Morgan poked him in the back with the gun. “But I know what’s waiting for me in here. Out there, we’ve got a chance.”

Gregg slowly opened the door, craning his head to both sides before stepping outside. Morgan followed.

She looked in the direction they’d come in and found the answer to the explosion.

A large white propane tank was burst open. Jagged sheets of thick metal were peeled back like flower petals, showing just how violent the blast had been.

Somehow, Morgan doubted it was an accident.

So what was it?

Hope bloomed inside her, but she wasn’t willing to bet her life on hope. Not anymore.

She needed to get out of here and quick.

The dirt drive looked clear, even with the plume of smoke partially obscuring some of the path, but Morgan rejected the idea of taking the direct route. There was a lot of open space between here and the fence. Chances were one of Barinov’s men would see her long before she saw them.

Morgan glanced over the junkyard. Cars were stacked on top of each other. Scrap piles were swept to the side of every aisle. It was a more indirect route, sure, but with plenty of spots to hide.

“Let’s go,” she said to Gregg.

Her brother responded by bolting out in front of her, disappearing around the first corner in the maze of scrap metal.

Morgan muttered a curse under her breath, but didn’t chase him. Gregg was hardly her biggest concern. Besides, after what he’d been about to do to her, she was more than happy to let him run the gauntlet on his own.

She kept the gun aimed straight in front of her as she carefully stepped into the junkyard.

Of course, she’d never shot one in her life, but she was pretty sure she got the general idea. Point. Shoot. Run like hell.

She led with it around the first turn, finger ready on the trigger, but the aisle was clear. So was the next one. And the one after that.

Morgan relaxed a little. She had to be close to the chain link fence, and so far she hadn’t heard so much as a single footstep from Barinov’s men.

“Morgan.”

Dust skittered out from Morgan’s feet as she froze. That voice. Just a few minutes ago she’d been so certain that she would never hear him again. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked up.

He was about twenty feet in front of her, his back up against two flattened cars.

“Ty.”

Relief rushed through Morgan at the sight of him.

She ran toward him, not bothering to look around the corner of the last aisle. She was only a step in when she ran into a brick wall.

At least, that was what it felt like. The air rushed out of her lungs as a black-sleeved arm cut across her chest and brutally yanked her backwards.

Barinov.

Morgan twisted and writhed in his grasp, desperate to turn her gun on him, but he knocked it from her hand. The weapon disappeared beneath a broken lawnmower.

But it turned out Barinov didn’t need her gun. He had another. Of course, he did. It seemed everyone she’d come in contact with over the last couple of days was armed to the teeth.

Barinov pressed the muzzle against her skull. He forced her to look directly at Ty as he held her across his body like a shield.

“The bartender,” Barinov said to Ty. His voice was low, but filled with sudden understanding. “You’re the FBI agent.”

Ty was still a good fifteen feet in front of her, but he had his gun trained squarely on Barinov, and, unlike her, it looked like he knew how to use it.

“Let her go,” Ty said. His gaze was focused squarely on Barinov’s face but Morgan could hear the strain in his voice. “And I promise I won’t shoot you between the eyes.”

“Is that your idea of negotiation, bartender?” Barinov asked with a tight laugh.

“It’s a better deal than I gave your men,” Ty said.

Morgan felt Barinov tense. The barrel of the gun dug deeper into her temple.

“So, you’re the one responsible for their deaths,” he said through gritted teeth. He vibrated with anger.

Morgan prayed Ty knew what he was doing, because she had the feeling Barinov was one more revelation away from putting a bullet in her head.

“And if you don’t let Morgan go, I’m going to be the one responsible for yours.” Ty inched closer.

“Not another step,” Barinov warned. “Or I’ll put the bitch down, right now.”

Ty stopped moving, but he didn’t lower his gun. “I doubt it. Everyone knows you never do your own dirty work, Barinov.”

“For you, I’d make an exception,” he sneered against her ear. Morgan wasn’t sure about Ty, but she sure as hell believed him. “No more games. Put down your gun, or I kill your whore.”

Ty’s gaze flickered back and forth between Barinov and her. His body tensed. His lips flattened. She could practically see the wheels spinning in his mind.

Did he risk taking the shot?

She had the feeling that if it was anyone other than her, the answer would never be in doubt.

Ty’s gaze lingered on her for a long moment before he finally tossed his gun down on the dirt in front of him.

“Good choice,” Barinov sneered. He pulled the weapon from Morgan’s head and instantly aimed at Ty.

Ty had only a fraction of a second to react before the shot rang out.

It wasn’t enough time.

Morgan screamed as Ty crumpled to the ground. She wrenched out of Barinov’s grasp and ran toward him, not caring if she was hit with a bullet in the back. All she wanted was to be by Ty’s side.

She collapsed down to her knees beside him. His shirt was covered in blood. So much blood. It radiated down from his shoulder and covered his chest.

His eyes were closed. Morgan shook him, but he didn’t move. His body was limp and heavy in her hands.

No. Dear God, no.

This was her fault. All her fault. He never should have come after her. She would have gladly taken a hundred bullets rather than see anything happen to Ty.

“Ty.” She grasped his hand and lifted it to her lips. “I love you,” she whispered as she kissed his slack fingers.

Tears filled her eyes as Barinov’s shadow fell over her.

“And now it’s your turn, you troublesome bitch.”

Morgan closed her eyes.

But the shot didn’t come. Instead, she felt Ty’s leg suddenly sweep out next to her. Her eyes snapped open in time to see Barinov falling to the ground.

He hit hard, but held fast to the gun. It went off. The shot went wild, pinging off metal in the distance.

Morgan didn’t waste any time. She wrapped her hands around the pistol and wrenched it from his hands. Then she scooted back as Ty sprung to life.

In an instant, he hooked his good arm under Barinov’s neck before the bastard could recover, and rolled, pulling Barinov’s heavy body on top of him.

Barinov writhed and kicked at the dust, but Ty held tight. He grabbed on to the side of Barinov’s head and twisted hard. There was a sickening snap, and Barinov’s body went slack.

Morgan struggled to catch her breath as Ty sloughed the body off. He sat up and looked at Morgan. She stared right back, not believing what she was seeing.

“Y-you’re alive,” she said.

His lips quirked up in a half smile. He pulled himself up to his knees and started crawling over. “I am. And so are you.”

Morgan met him halfway. She wrapped her arms around his chest before she could think better of it. Ty flinched and sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. His left arm was hanging limply at his side. The blood stain was still growing across his shirt. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ll live,” he said with a grimace. “I think the bullet went clean through the muscle. Another scar to add to the collection.”

Morgan slipped his jacket off then pulled her shirt over her head. She pulled back his collar and pressed the makeshift bandage to his wound. It wasn’t a permanent solution but it would work for now. She still needed to get him to a hospital as quickly as possible, but first they had to get out of the junkyard. Barinov might be dead, but his men were still crawling around.

Morgan was wracking her brain for a plan to get them both to safety when she heard the sirens in the distance.

“Finally,” Ty said, letting out a long sigh.

Morgan’s eyes widened. “Those are your guys?”

“The cavalry.” Ty nodded. “Late, as usual.”

“Oh, thank God. I was just trying to figure out how in the hell I was going to throw you over a chain link fence,” she said.

“I’m certainly glad it didn’t come to that,” he said, with a playful sparkle in his eye.

“It would have served you right for scaring me like that,” Morgan said. She would have smacked him in the shoulder…you know, if he wasn’t suffering from a gunshot wound. “I thought you were dead.”

“And how the hell do you think I felt when I woke up this morning and found you gone?”

“Yeah, about that.” Morgan broke eye contact and focused on the dirt. “Sorry. I knew you were having second thoughts—”

“For a damned good reason,” he broke in.

“—And it was my only chance to save my brother.”