Deadly Fear (Deadly #1)(90)



Ah, Monica. And as a bonus, she was a bleeder. He’d realized that when Jones had shot her. So much blood, spilling all around.

And Dante, well, he didn’t react so well when his lady got hit.

Exactly why I gave the bitch the first shot.

Confuse and control—the way he worked.

His finger tightened on the trigger when she didn’t drop her weapon. “How ’bout I shoot him in the head? Or maybe the heart? Yeah, let’s go for the heart.”

Her lips trembled, and the gun slipped from her bloody fingers.

“Good girl.”

He said the words slowly, letting them sink in, and he saw the way her eyes widened. This would be so fine. Better than all the other kills. Adrenaline spiked through his blood. He’d planned for this moment for so long. The perfect kill.

He kicked her gun away and leaned in close to her. “I know what scares you, Agent Davenport.”

She tried to slam her head into his.

He laughed, then rammed the butt of the rifle into her head.

Bitch.


“I lost her.” Jon’s bleak voice.

Kenton’s blood iced. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means her signal just died on me—sonofabitch!”

But the signal shouldn’t die. “I thought the damn thing worked even if the phone was off!”

“It does. It only stops if the tracking chip has been destroyed.”

No. Dammit, no. “Give me the last address.”

“It’s not a street, man, it’s in the middle of nowhere. Why is she out—”

“Coordinates.” He’d find the place. “Just give me the damn coordinates.” The glass doors of the sheriff’s station swung open. Hyde came marching in first, followed by a pale and hunched Sam.

What? She shouldn’t be there!

He scribbled down the coordinates. “Keep trying to get her signal back,” he snapped, and waved for Hyde. The shit was about to hit the fan.

Hyde stopped beside him, a frown pulling his brows low. “Where’s Davenport? I want an update on—”

“We’ve got a problem, sir.” With Hyde, he’d learned it was better to get things out fast.

Hyde shook his head. “That’s not what I want to hear.” His eyes scanned the room. “Dante?”

They were together. He suspected that Monica actually trusted Luke more than she trusted anyone. “Davenport went in the field. She and Dante were looking for a deputy—a Lee Pope.” A quick breath. “She wanted me to track her cell, and we just lost the signal.”

Hyde didn’t blink, but behind him Sam seemed to sway a bit.

“Last coordinates,” Hyde barked.

Kenton reached for his pad. “I’ve got—”

“Davis!” Hyde’s roar. “Get me a car and get it f*cking now!”


She awoke to complete darkness. The pain hit her instantly. Throbbing in her head, radiating from her right temple. Fire in her shoulder from the bullet that had gone through flesh and muscle.

Fumbling, she reached out her hand—and slammed her palm into a wall. Her breath shuddered out. Monica turned and reached behind her. Another wall.

She judged the distance and her heart stopped.

Two by three f*cking feet.

Darkness.

I know what scares you.

She shoved up to her feet. No, no, the bastard didn’t know. He didn’t know her at all.

She blocked the pain. What she’d always done.

Her hands smoothed over the walls. There had to be a door. A way in, and a way out.

Romeo had taken off the door knob. He’d sealed her in so completely.

Shit, she couldn’t find a knob. Nothing but smooth wood. Nothing but—

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

A man’s groan. Pain-filled, dazed.

Luke! She didn’t realize she’d screamed his name until she heard the laughter.

Her fingers flattened over the wood. If there was a knob, this would be the right height. She inched along, slowly, slowly, and after a few seconds, she felt the slight ridge. Monica traced it with her index finger. A fat square. Probably a piece of wood he’d attached over what should have been the hole for the knob, and he’d sanded it down for a near-perfect fit.

He’d been preparing for them.

She pressed her head against the wood—from outside she could hear rustles, shuffling, groans. God, Luke.

Her fist drove into that patched spot on the door. Wood shattered. Light trickled through the darkness. She knelt and squinted through that hole. She could see some kind of table with long straps dangling over its edges. A body—Luke’s body.

“Get away from him!” she screamed. Her hand reached down to her right ankle. The holster was gone. No backup gun. Her fist shoved into the door again. Agony lanced through her knuckles. Block it. Block it. She kept pounding. Started kicking. She had to get to Luke.

No, she would get to him.

The sliver of light flickered. The laughter came again, taunting her even as it chilled her blood. “I know what scares you most.” His voice carried easily to her.

Her hand slapped against the door. “Keeping me locked up isn’t going to scare me, *! I’m not afraid of being in your damn closet!” Small spaces didn’t bother her. If they had, she would have gone crazy with Romeo in those first nightmarish days. She didn’t like them, but she could handle them. She could handle anything.

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