Page 94 of Protecting Kelli
“Brant, I?—”
“Shut the fuck up,” he growled menacingly.
Deciding it was in her best interest, Kelli shut up.
Her mind spun, attempting to figure out how the hell to get out of this situation. But she had no idea what to do. Brant slashing her leg made it impossible to walk verywell, much less run. She could feel the blood oozing down her leg under her pants, making the material stick to her as she walked. Not to mention the wound in her chest. The knife hadn’t gone in very deep, but it was still painful.
Brant hauled her to a room in the back of the house that was littered with trash and decaying food. There was a moldy mattress in the corner, and Kelli could see several used needles in the filthy mess around her. Brant shoved her—thankfully not at the disgusting mattress—and she fell onto her hands and knees in the middle of the filth. She immediately turned on her butt to face Brant. If he was going to come at her with that knife, she’d fight him as best she could.
But he seemed to forget she was there as soon as he let her go. He immediately began to pace, mumbling to himself as he walked.
Kelli kept her gaze on the man who’d obviously gone a little crazy, inching backward until she was against one of the walls. The only window was on the back wall, and it had so much dirt and grime on it, she wasn’t sure it would even open. If Brant left her in the room alone, she could break it out, but that would alert him in seconds that she was trying to escape.
For now, she had to be content with the fact that Brant hadn’t tied her up. He obviously thought, correctly, that she wouldn’t be going anywhere, not with that wound on her leg.
Kelli’s thoughts turned to Bree. How had she gotten in the car? Had she managed to tell Smiley where they were? Was she going to do something stupid and get herself killed? That would suck, especially considering Kelli’s plan to get her and Smiley to meet face-to-face had failed.
She had no idea how long she’d sat against the wall, watching Brant pace and talk to himself. A matter of minutes. But when he finally stopped and faced her, Kelli tensed.
This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
“It’s time,” Brant said, pulling the knife from a sheath along his hip. He ran his thumb over the tip and smirked. “I don’t need you alive to get my ransom. I just need your boyfriend and his friends tothinkyou’re alive. Frankly, you’ve been a pain in my ass since Jamaica—and I’m done dealing with you.”
Kelli shrank away from him and mentally berated herself for not doing anything to even attempt escaping sooner. Fending off a man armed with averysharp knife—and she should know, she’d felt it first-hand, slicing through her flesh—would be far less fun.
But no matter what, she wasn’t going down easy. She’d do what she could to get his DNA under her fingernails, to scratch him so it was obvious he’d been in a fight. Anything that would tell the police and forensic people that Brant was guilty as hell. She might not be there to see him put away, but she prayed with all her might that he’d pay for what he was about to do.
Regret hit Kelli hard as Brant stepped toward her. She loved Flash, more than she’d ever loved anyone in her entire life. He gave her confidence, made her believe she could be anyone she wanted, do anything. He made her laugh, sigh in pleasure, and she simply enjoyed being around him. And she regretted that she hadn’t had more time with him. That she’d never get a chance at the future for them that Flash envisioned.
Taking a deep breath, Kelli focused on Brant’s righthand. The one holding the knife. This was it. She’d either win or die trying.
Attempting to channel Flash’s badass SEAL vibe, she waited for Brant to get close enough to make a move. She’d try to kick the knife out of his hand, make the first strike. Then the fight would be on.
Flash focused on not hitting any other cars as he sped through Riverton toward Cedar Street. He had no idea how the hell Bree Haynes was in Williams’ car, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. All he could think about was getting to Kelli.
Watching Williams cut her had felt like his own flesh was being sliced. The expression on Kelli’s face would stick with him for the rest of his days. He’d been injured in missions, and had seen many others get hurt too. But nothing had affected him as deeply as seeingKelli’spain.
Fury churned under the surface. Williams was a dead man. Of that, he had no doubt. He’d dared put his hands onhiswoman. Had drawn blood. He’d answer for that.
“There!” Smiley practically yelled.
They were both amped up. Neither had called Kevlar or any of the other guys, and they’d probably all be pissed about that, but they’d understand…eventually. There hadn’t been any time to stop and call them, or even text. Flash was concentrating on driving and Smiley was communicating with Bree, then looking up 47 Cedar Street on his map app.
Taking a deep breath, attempting to slow the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Flash turned down Cedar.His gaze immediately locked onto the piece-of-shit car Williams had been driving. It was sitting in the driveway of a brown one-story house, just as Bree had described.
It looked like a trap house, a place drug dealers used to sell their goods, or a place where junkies went to shoot up and party. The foundation was iffy and the roof literally had small holes here and there. Flash wouldn’t be surprised if this was where Williams had been hiding out after his money disappeared.
Stopping three houses down, Flash and Smiley jumped out of the SUV and quickly made their way toward number 47.
Just as they were approaching the side of the house, a woman stepped out from around the back. Flash was startled for a moment, but Smiley didn’t hesitate. He changed his trajectory and went straight toward her.
It hit Flash that this had to be the elusive Bree. The woman Smiley had been obsessed with for so long. When his friend got close enough, he reached out and grabbed her upper arm—and looked like he never wanted to let go.
“There’s a window in the back that’s broken. I think you can get in that way,” Bree told them quietly.
She looked disheveled but in control of her emotions. Which was surprising, considering what she’d just done. Her hair was greasy and her clothes wrinkled. But she held her head up, her shoulders back, as she gestured them toward the back of the house. Smiley still hadn’t let go of her, but she didn’t seem to mind or really even notice.
The threesome crept around the house, and the back seemed to be in worse shape than the front. There used to be a fence but it had long since collapsed. The weeds werethigh-high, and the smell of rotting garbage was almost overwhelming.
