Lost Hart, page 18
He held his breath.
Any minute now. Any minute.
The crack of a twig behind him had him jerking around just in time to see a man behind him with a gun.
Chase shot first. Double-tap, center mass. The man went down. Thank God he’d remembered to put the silencer on his gun.
The lights went out in the garage, causing hollering and chaos to transform the once-quiet night into a night of mayhem.
More shots fired inside the garage.
Creed’s guys didn’t have silencers.
Men hollered.
Punches were being thrown.
The van door slammed.
Chase leapt up from his spot and darted around to the opening of the garage. He saw Aaron in the middle of hand-to-hand combat with two men.
Colton had knocked one man out and was fighting off another one.
Chase spun around the garage, looking for Liam. He wasn’t one of the four bodies on the ground.
Maybe he was in the van with the kids.
That would be smart.
Chase ran to the van door. He needed to see Connor with his own eyes.
With his 9mm out and ready, he slid open the sliding door. Eight sets of terrified eyes and tear-stained dirty little faces stared back at him. The van stunk. All the children were gagged and had most likely soiled themselves. He scanned the kids, and relief flooded him like a gulp of fresh air after holding your breath until your lungs burned. There was Connor.
His eyes lit up when he recognized Chase, and he struggled against his bonds.
“It’s okay, little man,” Chase said gently. “We’re going to get you out of here.” He glanced at all the other kids. “All of you. We’re the good guys.”
More shots were fired, and he heard a bullet whiz past the open door.
The driver’s door opened, and Chase prepared himself to knock whoever it was out, but when he recognized Liam, he relaxed and nodded. “Get them the fuck out of here.” He looked back at the kids. “He’s a good guy, too, okay? He’s with us. He’s not going to hurt you. Nobody is going to hurt you.”
Liam nodded and started the van. Thankfully, it appeared that Creed or whoever had left the keys in the ignition.
Now that he knew Liam was going to get the kids out of there and to the muster point, he needed to find the fuckers that took Connor from the parking lot. He needed to find Creed, and he needed to end him.
More gunshots rang out, gravel crunched and punches were thrown as he watched through his night-vision goggles as Colton and Aaron continued to fight.
More and more of Creed’s men were coming out of the woodwork.
They were heavily outnumbered.
Police sirens echoed in the distance.
Cops would be here shortly. No doubt somebody in the area called after hearing all the gunfire.
The sound of many people running drew closer. More of Creed’s men? Police? SWAT?
Rex appeared first, gun out, goggles on. He nodded at Chase before heading into the thick of battle, taking out two guys with his gun in less than a second.
Brock, Rob and Heath were on his tail, jumping into the mix and swinging fists.
Chase needed to find Creed. That was his number-one priority, now that Liam was going to get the kids to safety.
He scanned the garage looking for Creed. For another exit. He dodged one of Creed’s guys coming at him and took him to the ground, clotheslining him in the throat with his arm. He stomped on his face for good measure, then put a bullet in his head to make damn sure he wasn’t getting back up.
Liam hadn’t been able to drive away yet, since there wasn’t any room. Men were fighting all around the van.
Chase went to the front of the van, hoping to clear a path, when he saw headlights flash in the alleyway.
Creed.
An engine revved, and he sprinted out of the garage, prepared to run down the fucking car, shoot out its tires or jump on the hood and punch his way through the windshield if he had to.
Creed was not leaving here unless it was in a body bag with Chase’s handprints around his neck.
He slowed his roll and crouched down behind a shrub, waiting for the car to pull out of wherever Creed had it stashed. There was only one way out, and that was forward. The speakeasy and garage were at the dead end of the alley.
Gravel spun and the engine revved. Now was his chance.
The car came into view. He aimed his gun at the front tire, squeezed the trigger, but a hard slam to the side of the head had him crumpling to the ground before he could shoot, and the world went black just as Creed’s car sped away, throwing up rocks and hitting Chase in the face.
Chapter 19
Stacey paced the length of the hotel suite, wringing her fingers and biting her lip.
The suite was not empty. Not by a long shot.
Richelle sat on the couch chatting quietly with Tessa, the trauma therapist, while Mark Herron, Will Colson, Riley McMillan and Emmett Strong all sat at the dining table, their medical bags on the kitchen counter. They’d set up triage stations in Heath and Stacey’s bedrooms.
A gentle hand on Stacey’s shoulder made her stop. It was Pasha Young, or Dr. Pasha Young, as she should be called. The female doctor Mark called to assist with the children if some of them were girls and uncomfortable being examined by a male.
She held a mug of tea in her other hand and offered it to Stacey, her gentle golden-brown eyes holding a level of sympathy and kindness Stacey appreciated. “I’ve never been good at waiting,” she said, her smile small but sweet. “Even at thirty-two, I’m still a painfully impatient person.”
Stacey took a sip of the tea. It was chamomile. This was Pasha’s nice way of telling Stacey to calm down. The woman, with caramel-colored, dark-blonde-streaked hair pulled up into a ponytail, tilted her head toward Stacey’s room, encouraging her to follow.
With nothing better to do than wear a rut in the carpet, Stacey followed.
“We won’t sit on the bed, but the chairs will do,” Pasha said, taking the seat farthest from the dresser.
Stacey took the chair beside the dresser and cradled the tea in both hands. “I just feel so helpless. All these men are risking their lives to bring back my child, and here I am”—her laugh was brittle—“drinking tea.”
“Your job comes next. The hard part comes next,” Pasha said, leaning forward and resting her left hand on Stacey’s knee.
“Connor is going to need you more than ever,” Pasha went on. “To help him sort out his feelings, his fears, answer the tough questions. It’s going to be a long, hard road for all of you. So if you’re only waiting right now, that’s okay. You’re doing your part and will do your part when the time comes.”
“Do you have children?” Stacey asked.
The woman shook her head. “No. But I want them. I want lots of them. I love kids. It’s why I went into pediatrics. I also come from a huge family, so I want a huge family.”
“Are you married or with someone?” Stacey needed to distract herself from her own thoughts, and interviewing the friendly doctor seemed the best option right now. She hadn’t noticed a ring on the woman’s finger. But in this day and age, that didn’t mean much.
Pasha smiled, but there was an intense sadness behind her eyes that made Stacey instantly sad. “I was engaged, but he ended things just before Christmas. He said he couldn’t see himself growing old with me.” The last few words came out with a hard, bitter bite that even Stacey felt.
She placed her hand over Pasha’s. “I’m sorry. But at least you didn’t have kids with him. I had kids with my lowlife ex. Who is now dead.” Pasha’s eyes widened. “But not by my hand,” Stacey quickly said. “He married me while he was still married to another woman. Led a double life and then died in a car accident. Freya—the other wife—and I learned about each other after his death. We’re actually friends now.”
“Out of the ashes you rose,” Pasha said, the gold in her eyes twinkling. “Like a phoenix.”
Stacey couldn’t stop the obnoxious snort and laugh that bubbled up from her chest. “I’ve never been compared to a phoenix, but sure.”
Richelle appeared at the door, her amber eyes wide. “Liam just called. They’re downstairs and bringing the children up.”
Stacey’s shattered heart began to ache in her chest as she bolted up from the chair, sending her tea to the floor in a splash. She took one look at it. “Oh shit.”
“It’s fine,” Pasha said, touching her arm. “I’ll clean it up. Go prepare yourself.”
Stacey just glanced back at Pasha but didn’t say anything. She followed Richelle out to the suite, where the other doctors and Tessa were standing and seemed to be mentally preparing themselves. Mercedes had sent a bunch of clothing, which was in a couple of boxes by the balcony sliding-glass doors. Food was in the kitchen for the kids, as well as water and electrolytes. Even though Connor had only been gone for a day, they didn’t know how long the other children had been away from their families.
Richelle’s hand on her shoulder impeded her from running to the door and opening it to greet them in the hallway. Tessa had already told her to remain calm, that these children would be scared and wouldn’t necessarily know that this new group of adults wasn’t going to hurt them.
The doorknob wobbled, and she held her breath.
“I’ll get it,” Richelle said, beelining it for the door and holding it open.
Aaron—his face cut, bruised and bloody—was first in, a small, dirty child in his arms. This kid wore red shoes and blue pants. It wasn’t Connor. The little boy had his arms wrapped tight around Aaron’s neck, and his eyes were closed, but not from sleep. He was squeezing them shut out of fear.
“It’s okay, buddy,” Aaron said, taking the little boy over to the couch, where Pasha was crouched down waiting. “This here is Dr. Young, and she’s going to help you, okay? You’re safe now. Nobody is going to hurt you.”
Next in was Colton. He had a child in his arms as well. Relief swamped her at the same time the tears exploded from her eyes like a geyser when she recognized those camo pants and the blond hair. Connor’s face was dirty, but his blue eyes were wide, and when he saw her, he flung himself from Colton’s arms at her, crying out, “Mama!”
She caught him and held on probably too tight, but she didn’t care.
“Oh, my baby. My sweet, sweet baby,” she said through the sobs as she kissed every inch of his face and pushed the hair out of his eyes to get a better look at him. “You’re safe now. Nobody is going to hurt you. Nobody is going to take you away from me again. We’ve got you.” He clung to her like a baby gorilla, his fingers digging in tight to the back of her neck. He could draw blood and she wouldn’t care. He was back in her arms and in one piece, and that was all that mattered.
A rough-looking Rob walked in carrying one little boy in his arms and another by the hand. They had filthy faces and terror in their eyes. The doctors went to them and led them to the bedrooms.
Liam came in, and he held a little boy of about seven by the hand.
Heath and Brock were next. They each held a little girl in their arms. These tiny things were probably no more than three—if that. Were they even potty-trained?
Pasha saw that there were little girls here and passed her patient off to Emmett, who took over bandaging up the boy’s elbows, which were bloody.
Heath and Brock took the little girls to Stacey’s room, and Tessa and Pasha followed.
Sitting on one of the dining-room chairs, Stacey kept her arms wrapped tightly around Connor and murmured into his ear how much she loved him, all the while keeping an eye on the open door.
Rex was next—a big bloody cut on his bald head—and he held a little boy roughly Connor’s age in his arms. Will Colson guided them to the couch across from the one Emmett was working at.
Stacey continued to stare at the door.
Where was Chase?
She counted all the men and all the children.
Chase had not ducked in without her seeing.
He was not here.
Where the hell was he?
Rex stepped toward her, followed by Heath and Brock, their faces tight, stony and dark. Heath glanced at his feet, Rex’s nostrils flared, and Brock looked close to breaking a lamp or putting his fist through a wall.
“Where’s …” Stacey’s eyes darted frantically between Aaron, Colton and Rob.
They were all watching her and the remaining three Hart brothers.
“Where’s Chase?” she asked, her voice cracking. She stood up and adjusted Connor in her arms, giving the men her best stare-down. “Where is Chase?”
Heath’s throat moved. “They have him.”
“Who?” Just when she thought she was over the sick feeling of fear in her stomach, it emerged again to the point where she thought she might puke.
“They had a lot of security,” Rex murmured. “When the lounge and motel teams realized the kids weren’t there, we got to the speakeasy as fast as we could. But they took Chase out when he went after Creed. We did what we went there to do, and that was get the kids out.”
Her posture went limp, as if all her bones had dissolved away, leaving only her skin to make due with standing. “But you can’t just leave him,” she practically screamed, causing several of the children to look at her with their own level of fear. “What are you all still doing here? Go back and get him.”
“We don’t know if he’s alive,” Heath said, clearing his throat, pain in his dark blue eyes when he finally lifted his head. “He wasn’t at the muster point, isn’t answering his phone. I saw him out of the corner of my eye rush out of the garage, but then he was gone.”
Stacey began to shake. Her body had turned to ice and her legs to jelly. She dropped back into the chair because she had no other choice and hugged Connor even tighter. Her gaze lifted to Brock’s face. “You don’t think he sacrificed himself, do you?”
Aaron shook his head. “It didn’t go down like that. I think he was ambushed from behind, didn’t see it coming. It was dark and foggy out there, and when we killed the power, it was like fighting ghosts.”
Her mind raced, heart beat wildly in her chest. “But you need to go back and get him. You can’t leave your brother behind. We know what those monsters are capable of. You can’t just—”
A knock at the door had her gasping.
Chase!
Nearly elbowing Richelle in the boob, and with Connor still in her arms, she sprinted for the door. But when she opened it, Chase was not on the other side.
A man with dark red hair, muscles for days and piercing blue eyes stood with his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants. “Hi. I’m Isaac. Liam and Richelle called me.”
Richelle was at the door behind her and welcomed him in. “Thanks for coming, Isaac. I know it’s your day off, but we need some help.”
Isaac’s eyes widened as he walked into the hotel suite and took in what was happening. He cleared his throat and fixed Liam and Richelle with a concerned and borderline pissed-off expression. “What is going on here?”
Richelle went on to explain the situation to Isaac, which only caused the man’s eyes to widen, then his brows to narrow and finally his mouth to open and give him a sexy codfish look. “You guys can’t go all vigilante,” Isaac said, his head shaking. “I have to call this in.”
Liam approached Isaac. “We know that, man.”
“Brock’s been communicating with the authorities and higher ups all along. Seattle PD is aware of the situation.” Richelle said. “We called you because you’re a cop, and we know you’ll know how to get these kids back to their parents.”
“You called me because I’m a friend and think I’ll hesitate before I cuff you all and haul you in for going all vigilante.” Isaac said, his hackles still slightly raised.
Liam sighed. “We want to work with the authorities, particularly now that we got the kids back. Hand this job over to the law. But time was of the essence, and we had to do what we had to do.”
“Yeah, but now you’ve got a missing Canadian civilian,” Isaac said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I’m glad the kids are safe, but fuck, guys, come on.”
Tessa was busy handing out food and water to the children while the doctors continued to check them out.
“No serious injuries on the kids I examined,” Will said, his throaty rumble nearly as dark as his skin.
“Mine, either,” Riley said.
“My kid is complaining of a sore ear, and I took a look and think it’s a mild ear infection,” Emmett said. “I can write a scrip for some antibiotics.”
Pasha and Mark joined them.
“Little guy I looked at seems fine,” Mark said. “Scared, but no injuries. I asked if they’d been touched inappropriately, and they said no.”
Pasha’s nostrils flared, and she removed her latex gloves. “One of the little girls is fine. But the other one is deaf, so I don’t know how to ask her the right questions. Anybody know any sign language?”
Mark lifted a hand, but Heath stepped forward. “I do.”
Pasha’s gaze landed on Heath and instantly turned avid. “Come with me, then.”
Mark knelt down next to Stacey and pulled on new gloves. “Mind if I give him a little checkup?”
She brushed the hair off Connor’s face. “Can the nice doctor take a look at you? You can stay on Mummy’s lap the whole time.”
“You know what, I have a little boy, too,” Mark said, gently pushing Connor’s pant legs up so he could check out his knees. “He’s a little older than you though. He’s in grade two. His name is Gabe, and his favorite color is red. What’s your favorite color?”
“Orange, right, buddy?” Stacey said, finding it nearly impossible to fake being happy, even though she had her little boy back.
Connor watched with intense interest as Mark gently gave him a thorough checkup. He asked him some questions, and thankfully, Connor shook his head to all the ones that would have made Stacey go ballistic.
Once Mark finished, Connor snuggled deeper against Stacey. He still hadn’t said anything besides that first Mama, which made her worry if he was going to become mute from trauma.
