Page 104 of Reckless Seduction
Eriksen’s throat bobs. “I never once thought Lina would betray me.”
“That isn’t an excuse,” I bite out. “You knew she was a social climber. You were so focused on doing everything Crowe ordered that you didn’t bother to look around and see what was right under your nose.”
“And there is nothing I regret more than that,” he promises. “Trust me. And I’ll spend a lifetime making up for my mistakes. As will you.”
“You can count on that,” Seamus and I vow.
Eriksen smiles. “I’m glad she found you two. Even if it is a little… unconventional.”
“Should be our new family motto,” my father mutters beneath his breath, and we laugh.
“Everyone in position?” Vas, my sister’s right-hand man and former Sovietnik to her husband, asks over the comms. In the wake of her husband’s death, she’s taken on the mantle of Pahkan.
“All set,” I respond. “Make sure my sister stays safe.”
Vas snorts. “I think you should be more worried about the people who cross her by hurting her new friend.”
“Send pictures,” my father jokes. “We breach on two.”
“One,” Seamus starts.
“Two,” I snarl. The wood around the doorknob splinters as the bullet from my gun shatters the lock. Seamus kicks the door open, stepping aside to let our father and Eriksen take the lead. Just as we step inside, the power alarms blare and the power cuts out.
Right on time.
We pull down our night-vision goggles and advance. Shots ring out as our backup makes progress through the rear door. I fire two shots into the chest of one of the guards. He falls, and two more take his place.
Shit.
I duck behind a ratty sofa as shots rain down on me. Keeping crouched, I peek up from behind the sofa, ducking down again when they spot me and fire. But now I have their position. Taking a deep breath, I steady myself and point my gun through the back of the couch. Failure isn’t an option. I have to get to Bailey. There is so much I need to say. I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing.
Two shots through the dilapidated piece of shit furniture and they’re down.
One man screams as Eriksen dives from his hiding spot and sticks his knife directly through his throat.
“Fucking traitor,” he hisses. That is one rat down in his organization. How many more are there?
“Clear!” my father hollers from another room.
“Clear!” Eriksen echoes.
Cautiously, I stand, peering at the wreckage around me. There have been fewer guards than I thought.
“Clear,” Seamus and I holler at the same time.
“This way.” Eriksen points to a large wooden door that looks like it leads to a basement. I disengage the outside lock and knock three times in a row. Our code to let the girls know it is clear. That we are friendly.
Then we wait with bated breath, hoping that everything went as planned. There had been no way for us to breach the fortified basement, and even if we could, it would be too easy for the men down there to take them hostage. This way, we have the element of surprise.
One of Eriksen’s men moves toward the door, a pair of heavy iron mechanical claws in his grasp. He places them between the heavy metal door and the wall, and a few moments later, the lock on the door busts open.
My heart stops as the door swings open and Bailey appears. Her hair is a wet, tangled mess; her face and body are bruised, but she is beautiful.
“Fucking hell,” I growl, removing the jacket I wear over my Kevlar and stepping toward her to place it around her shoulders. “Whoever saw you in that better be fucking dead.”
“Oh, he’s dead.” One of the women cackles behind Bailey, her Russian accent thick. “Very, very dead.”
“Good,” I whisper as I reach for her face. “I am so sorry,a stóre?—”
