Read Riveted (Art of Eros #1) Online

Authors: Kenzie Macallan

Riveted (Art of Eros #1) (24 page)

“Here, take the laptop and I’ll meet you down there. I’ve got to hit the head before we go.” Sydney dumped the computer in Mac’s hands, making a beeline for the restroom. Mac’s fleeting thought was that Sydney’s bathroom break seemed odd given the gravity of the situation.

Once in the car, they followed the moving red dot heading straight for the abandoned buildings they had scouted the previous night. They wanted to stay far enough behind so they wouldn’t set off any of Brock’s alarms.

As they entered the unfinished resort complex, Brock’s car kicked up plumes of dust, which served as their cover. Dusk started to settle in, giving the dust cloud an eerie bluish glow. They parked inside a nearby abandoned building and decided to survey the area on foot. Sydney took her weapons case, knowing full well she might have to use the sniper rifle concealed inside. She and Mac loaded themselves to the teeth with weapons of every variety for every situation. Mac handed her the communications earpiece and they started to survey the area.

As early evening approached, the shadows grew longer, giving them the cover they needed to move around covertly. The red dot stopped moving, revealing Brock and Mara’s location. Mac turned toward the place where he thought he heard tires crunching on gravel.

“Did you hear that? It sounded like cars approaching from the other side of that building.”

“No. I didn’t hear anything but the rustling of leaves. A storm’s coming in, though.” Sydney pointed to the horizon over the ocean where dark, ominous clouds suddenly appeared. The wind picked up, lifting up light objects and swirling them around.

Their weapons were drawn as they continued to move in and out of the dark shadows. As they rounded the corner, Mac saw someone moving past a window opening on the third floor of a nearby building.

“I’m going in. I need you to set up your sniper rifle in that adjacent building. You’re on standby. Avoid a shoot to kill. Got it?” Mac’s green eyes were bright and intense, his target within reach. At that point, he needed to throttle down. His biggest hurdle would be getting Brock to give up Mara.

“Got it.” Sydney reached in her pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

“Is this really the time for that?” Her calm demeanor and casualness threw him off as she lit up.

“Nicotine helps keep me calm and steadies my hand.” She took a couple puffs then threw it to the ground, stubbing it out under her shoe.

“Get him in your sights if you can, but fire only on my command. I hope I can get to her before he hurts her.”

They split up. Sydney headed for the adjacent building as Mac strode toward the one where he hoped he would find Mara.

On her way up to the top, Sydney swept each floor. She hit the second floor and noticed a closed door to one of the rooms. She kicked it open, gun drawn.

“Hey, McClane, I found the room where they were. He found her phone. It’s in a million pieces on the ground. I bet that set him off. Be careful. You might be walking into a real shit storm.” In the field, she always called him McClane from
Die Hard
as a joke and a warning, because he had been known to go in guns blazing. His training prepared him for all kinds of dangerous situations, just not the ones that involved the love of his life.

“Roger that.” Mac barely breathed. He quietly made his way up the staircase, waiting for Sydney to set up. He may have gone into some situations without backup, but not this time. This time, the woman he meant to spend the rest of his life with needed him. All of this had to be handled by the book or things were liable to go shit up fast.

“I’m set up. I have the window opening in my sights, waiting for your go.” This was music to his ears, even if he didn’t know what lay ahead. He would love to give Sydney the go to kill Brock, but they needed that bastard for a bigger cause and a lot of unanswered questions.

As he came through the doorway, his eyes focused on the room at the end of the hall. He strained his ears to hear anything coming from the room, but there was only the beating of his heart. A trickle of sweat slid down his spine. As he stepped closer to the door, leaning his ear against it. There were voices. Brock mumbled about the slowness of the computer and the shitty satellite service in the area. Mac didn’t hear Mara’s voice but knew she was there. If Brock was still waiting for the computer to fire up, he hadn’t gotten the passwords yet.

Mac slowly let out the breath. The show was about to start and he would be leaving with Mara alive.

Everything hinged on his timing. As he got ready to execute his plan, he stepped on a piece of glass, hiding in plain sight. He froze immediately but the scuffling on the other side of the door signaled his arrival.

As soon as Brock heard the glass break, he lunged for Mara, yanked her up and clamped his hand over her mouth. He wasn’t going down without a fight. Having come too far to give up at that point, he took his .22 from behind his back and held the barrel against her temple. Mara started to scream in the hand covering her mouth.

Brock wrenched her head to the side. “Shut the fuck up or I won’t have to use my gun. I’ll break your rich bitch neck. Let me guess, you managed to leave a breadcrumb for lover boy. I should just kill you now because you are such a goddamn curse, but I’m too close to getting what I deserve.” Brock’s teeth ground shut as the muscles twitched in his jaw.

“Who’s out there? Is that you, lover boy? Because I have Mara and a bullet with her name on it.” Brock made taunting people an art form. He had plenty of practice with some of the idiots he’d been dealing with over the years.

“The name is Creighton. I assume you’re Brock, Mara’s not-so-dead husband. Look, if you hand her over to me, you have a good chance of making it out of here alive.” Mac’s voice held more bravado than he felt on the inside. Hostage negotiations weren’t his forte but he needed to talk Brock down, letting him think he could still get out of this unscathed.

Mac’s voice was like a warm caramel pouring over her. The lilt in his voice calmed her, giving her strength. Her breathing started to slow as she focused on him. She wanted nothing more than to run to him, but was trapped by a demon.

“Let me tell you how this is going to go, Creighton. Mara has something of mine, and I need it. Once I’m done with her, I’ll think about not killing her. So you better be on your way, or I’ll put a bullet in her head right now.” Brock’s voice sounded strong and sure, but the hand over her mouth was cold, clammy and trembling.

Mac had a few cards of his own to play. “I’m armed and not alone. You can make this a whole lot easier on yourself if you let her go. We know you have the computer, and you can keep it. I hear you’re a pro at hacking them.” Mac tried to keep the desperation out of his voice in order to maintain control of the situation.

“Oh, what, you’ve suddenly turned into a cop who can carry a weapon across the Mexican border? Not likely.” Brock needed to call his bluff.

He turned Mara’s face to get her complete attention and lowered his voice. “Who the fuck is this guy, Mara? Why does he have a gun and backup? Or is he a really good bluffer? Either way, I give this guy credit. He’s got balls.” Brock’s anger raged in his hollow, bloodshot eyes.

Mara trembled from head to toe unable to form words. Brock moved his hand far enough away so she could speak.

“I told you I don’t know that much about him. I haven’t been with him that long.” She tried to focus on his forehead so she could hide the lie. Brock responded with a grunt and moved his hand back to cover her mouth. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and above his upper lip. Behind him on the floor, the computer still tried to find a signal.

“Fuck all!” Brock’s frustration level started to peak. His foot pushed the laptop around on the floor, hoping a different location in the room might speed up finding a signal. He was torn between needing to stall this asshole from doing something stupid, like coming to the rescue and wanting to shoot her without a second thought, but he really needed Mara alive to transfer his money.

“Tell me something, lover boy. Now that you’ve had my sloppy seconds, is my wife a frigid fuck or what? She’s absolutely useless in bed.” Brock threw his head back laughing, but it lacked authenticity. He played the game without knowing all the players. Mac knew better than to even respond.

Mara held onto Brock’s forearm, trying to pull his hand free from her mouth. She kept saying please, over and over against his hand. An exasperated Brock twisted her head back and through gritted teeth, spoke the only words that would shut her up.

“Shut up or I am going to blast him to kingdom come.” He raised his gun and fired off a warning shot through the door. He hoped his opponent was idiot enough to stand in front of the door and get himself killed. The blast of the gun echoed violently in the room, and Mara screamed through Brock’s hand.

Sydney heard the shot through the earpiece. “Shit. He’s armed. What’s your twenty?”

“Syd, hold your fire. I’m outside the door.” Mac spoke quietly knowing the sensitivity of the earpiece would pick up his voice. His mind calculated eighteen different scenarios on how this could go down. This stand off was about to get real for Brock, whether he was ready or not.

“I’m not a cop and yes, I can carry a weapon in Mexico.” Mac let the sentence hang in the air, giving Brock something to think about. Brock would put two and two together and Mac wanted him to fully understand all the players in this game. This was for keeps.

Brock knew what that meant. He was dealing with one of the big boys. CIA? He couldn’t be sure, since Mac’s accent threw him off. Knowing Mac wouldn’t completely reveal himself, he needed a distraction while the bars on the computer began to gain in numbers.

“So, you’re one of the big boys, Creighton? Sometimes, you guys have to do some ugly undercover work, like fuck my wife to get to me. I’m sorry about that. Must have been the worst dry work you’ve ever had to do, because we both know it wasn’t wet!” He chuckled to himself, knowing that the comment speared Mara. He could kill two birds with one stone. He was a master at stabbing her where it hurt most.

Mara’s body tensed as she remembered her conversation with Mac two days prior. She accused him of that exact deception but then questioned her instincts about him. After a lot of time to think, Mara discovered her heart spoke louder than her head and for once, she understood what was in her heart. Mac was one of the good guys, and she believed him.


Leannan
, please don’t listen to him. He’s trying to break you by upsetting you.” He knew what Brock was trying to do to her, making her question her tie to him. Mac’s voice was a plea rather than a command. He made the conversation seem as if it were only the two of them. He needed her to remember that invisible connection that held them together.

Mara’s body relaxed, hoping she might get out of this alive. His voice held so much hope for them. She remembered how he felt inside her, a bond that connected them, the song only the two of them heard. He couldn’t fake that.

“How touching and even a pet name. But I don’t really care who or what you are. At the end of the day, I have something you want. So if I were you, I’d back away and leave us alone.” Brock gave his offer one more try, keeping his gun pointed at the door.

Mac needed to take the focus off Mara and get down to business. “We need you, Brock. You see, we’re very interested in all of your backroom dealings with the Russians. By now, they must also know you’re alive. There’s probably a contract out on you as we speak. In the end, it’s either them or us. Who are you going to choose? I think the choice is obvious, don’t you? You need to make a deal with us while you still can.”

In that moment, Mara felt Brock start to lose his control. The hand holding the gun began to shake violently. Mac got him to crack. The opening she searched for presented itself. She needed to make the most of him becoming unhinged, keeping him off-balance. As Brock glanced back at the computer, Mara bit down hard on his hand and twisted out of his arm. He jumped back with a yelp and yelled out, “Fucking bitch!” before he caught her by the wrist as she leaned away from him. Mac heard the commotion, kicking through the door, ready for any situation.

Mara watched in horror as everything happened in slow motion. Brock gripped her wrist as she stood beside him when a crack sounded through the air and then another. Brock fell face-first on the concrete floor as Mara jumped out of the way, wrenching her wrist out of his grasp. Her wide eyes were glued to Brock.

The pain burned across Mac’s upper left arm without fazing him. His sole focus was Mara. All he could hear were her screams as she slid down the wall, her eyes fixed on Brock’s head. He barely recognized her in the blonde wig and heavy makeup, but he knew those blue eyes. Pulling his stare away, he looked down at Brock as red blood rapidly covered the gray floor.

Bending closer, Mac found the hole in the back of Brock’s head. He recognized the shot as through-and-through. He didn’t need to check for a pulse.

“Syd, what the hell? I told you on my command. Fuck. Brock’s dead.” Mac’s words punctured the air as they echoed in the concrete cell.

“I didn’t fire.” Sydney didn’t even finish her thought before Mac registered what happened, his body already in motion. A third party had made themselves known in this hunt. He flew toward Mara, pushing her to the floor.

“Syd, get out of there, now. I’ll meet you at the car. I think they got what they wanted,” Mac’s voice was muffled as he covered Mara’s body with his own. Sydney knew Mac well enough to realize things had just gone south in a whole other way, but she also knew he wasn’t in danger.

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