Retribution (Secrets & Lies #3)(52)



“Well, you need to wait another thirty seconds at least,” Dr. Jackson says with a laugh, but his laughter is cut off when gunfire erupts outside. “What the hell?”

Oh no. I run for the front door even as the staff yells for me to get back and get down, but I ignore them to get to my family.

Nathan has his pistol out, and is standing just a few feet away from a tall, slender woman who also has a weapon out, her long hair pulled back in a ponytail hanging nearly down to her waist and her clothes are of an athletic, slightly military cut. It looks like she's wearing something like yoga pants and a tactical vest and long sleeves. I've never seen her up close before, but I know for certain, it's Isis Bardot.

“Run! Get back to the compound!” Nathan yells, and I see behind him as Carson and Andrea get into the van and crank the engine. They rev it once before taking off, and I'm worried they're going to leave me behind before whoever is driving makes a wide circle of the parking lot, the tires squealing on the pavement and they try to swing around to me.

“Here! Here!” I yell, and Nathan's eyes cut over in my direction. It's a mistake, as Isis slaps his pistol out of his hand and pulls the trigger on her own gun, but Nathan's already moved, the shot going wild. She kicks and he rolls away, giving her a moment. Instead of shooting at me though, she shoots at the van, whoever is driving jerking the steering wheel and swerving. I dive out of the way, rolling painfully on the sidewalk, but Isis shoots again and the van keeps going, Isis shooting out the back window as they escape into the street. “No!”

I try to get up but my ankle is screaming at me and I fall to the ground, trying my best to get away from Isis before she can decide to shoot me. Her eyes swing in my direction and I can see the big black hole of her pistol center on my head, but before she can pull the trigger, Nathan kicks the back of her knee, her hand jerking up and her shot going wild into the air. “Leave her out of it!”

Isis ignores me and turns back to Nathan, an evil grin of understanding on her face. “Oh, I see, lover. So you've developed a soft spot for the artist, have you?”

“Fuck you, evil bitch,” Nathan says, on his feet and throwing a punch, ignoring that Isis still has her gun. His hand slams into the side of her face with enough force that I swear she should be knocked out, but instead she spins with it, her foot working in a tight arc that cracks Nathan across the jaw.

“I'm not the pushover you think I am,” Isis hisses as she flips backward, Nathan in pursuit. “I've gotten better.”

I can barely keep up as they start punching and kicking at each other, Nathan at one point grabbing Isis by the hair and throwing a vicious elbow strike that she blocks and counters by trying to knee Nathan in the crotch. He blocks but it allows her enough leverage to push him off and break his grip on her hair.

“Not good enough,” Nathan growls as he closes with Isis again, but from inside her vest she triggers something, spraying him in the face. Nathan's almost immediately blinded and he coughs, swinging wildly and catching Isis with a hard slapping blow that drives her back.

“Thought that one'd come in handy,” Isis laughs, turning and running toward me. I try to run, but my ankle makes me stagger and she grabs me by the collar of my jacket before I take three steps and jerks me around. Nathan wipes his eyes and turns toward us, but Isis presses her pistol against my temple, and he freezes. “Not one more step, Nathan. You know I won't have a problem spraying this bitch's brains all over the f*cking sidewalk.”

“You do, and you're a dead,” Nathan says, his hands out to the sides. “Let her go, Isis. You do, and you have a chance to live.”

She laughs and yanks me by the neck. I can hear sirens in the distance, but this part of Asheville is a quiet suburb, the cops don't react quickly around here. “Don't think so, Nathan. No... I think I'll keep your little love interest with me. Call her an insurance policy. Call her bait, call her whatever. But don't call me, I'll call you.”

“Nathan?” I ask, fear nearly paralyzing me as I feel the steel of Isis' pistol pressed against the side of my head. “Nathan?”

“I'll come for you,” Nathan promises. “I will come for you.”

“I'm counting on just that,” Isis says. The sirens are close, but a car pulls in front of us, a man in a ski mask behind the wheel, and Isis pulls open the rear door, jamming me into the back seat, her right behind. The car takes off, and I'm slammed against the door on the far side as it makes the turn, Isis' gun still pointed at me.

“Well?” the driver says, glancing back. Judging from the voice, it's a man.

“Well, we have her. We achieved our mission,” Isis says. “They're close, and we've got a hostage. Now, get us the f*ck outta this town.”

“Where were the others?” the man asks, taking another turn and heading what I think is south with the way the sun's on my left shoulder. “Why didn't you kill Nathan?”

“I kill Nathan, and they're going to panic. They might not come after this one,” Isis says with feigned patience, like she's a teacher talking to a schoolchild. “Now, will you please shut the f*ck up and get us out of here? You might be paying the bills, but I'm running the operations. That was the agreement.”

My eyes go wide as I look at Isis, then up front. She reads my expression and gives me an evil smile. “Oh yes, you haven't had the chance to properly introduce yourselves, have you? Melissa Sands, say hello to your father.”

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