Page 88 of Take Me Back
I glance down at the knife on Tanner’s belt.
“Even with your team, you couldn’t manage to best me. Vargas and I will laugh over this after he feeds what’s left of you to his dogs.”
“Kill him, DC. I don’t care if he fucking shoots me as long as I die knowing this asshole is dead too.”
“I don’t think so.” Vander laughs and cuts his gaze to Tanner for a beat.
It’s the moment I need.
“Not a fucking chance.”
I palm the knife and bury it in Vander’s throat before he can pull the trigger. The gun falls from his hand to the deck, and his body crumples behind it.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Tanner yells.
He shoves his shoulder under my armpit and we head for the bird, its rotors turning. Tanner shoves me toward the door, and Rome helps pull me inside.
“Where the fuck is Concord?”
When the last member of our team dives inside the opposite door, Rome yells, “Go!” and the chopper lifts off the deck.
From my spot on the floor, my eyes find Kat’s. She reaches out, and I grab her hand.
“I knew you’d come for me.”
I haul myself into the seat beside her and pull her against my body. Closing my eyes, I breathe her in. She’s everything that’s good and pure in my life, and I almost lost her. Never again. No more secrets.
“I’ll always come for you.”
“Hold on to your asses, because this might get bumpy!”
We all look back toward the yacht as Concord points. We’re just out of range as it explodes into a ball of fire.
Kat meets my gaze, and I close my hand around hers. “It’s really over.”
I nod. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 41
Kat
“Do I want to know who this plane belongs to?” I ask after the captain of the Gulfstream announces that we’ll be taking off, and the flight attendant in a simple navy dress who gave us bottles of water disappears.
“Knowing Rome, it could be anyone.”
As the jet hurtles down the runway, I’m reminded of my fear as we took off in the Cessna what seems like a million years ago. Has it only been two and a half days? How is that even possible?
Dane twines his fingers through mine and squeezes as we lift off the ground.
“I’m okay,” I whisper in the quiet of the cabin.
“Maybe I just wanted to hold your hand.” He lifts it to his mouth and presses a kiss to my knuckles as his eyes meet mine.
My husband, the mercenary. With his face battered and his black shirt ripped from where the bullets tore through and hit his body armor, I have no trouble believing it.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Without any elaboration, Dane knows exactly what I’m talking about. He lowers our hands to the armrest between us and shifts to face me.
