Code Name: Genesis (Jameson Force Security #1)(62)

Cruce and Saint are less than seven miles away, but I’m not going to wait. Even if this fucker has no intention of killing Joslyn right away, he could be hurting her as we speak.

I grab my phone, the red blinking circle my only focus as I decide to approach from the east rather than coming straight up his driveway. With that in mind, I plunge into the woods and start making my way toward the small, twelve-hundred-foot cabin that sits deep in the woods. Bebe had sent me Google satellite photos of the place. She was also able to hack into his credit cards, revealing he’d purchased a large metal shipping container that was delivered just two days before he broke into her house.

I know exactly what I’m looking for, but I don’t know what I’m going to find once I get there.

I pick my way through the pines and scrub laurel, checking the map every five yards or so to make sure I’m on course to sneak in undetected. About fifty yards into the woods, I’m stunned when I see the red light start to move. I watch it for a few seconds before I bolt into action. It’s moving away from me at a fast pace. In my heart of hearts, I know Joslyn is running for her life.

I no longer worry about a sneak approach. Instead, I take off running through the dense forest, periodically glancing between the terrain and the map to keep my bearings. I’m probably less than two hundred yards from her—not being able to see her but relying solely on the phone in my hand—when I hear her scream. It sends a burst of adrenaline so deeply through me that my feet turn into rockets, and I fly. Trees and branches whipping past me, I frantically search for anything that will tell me what is going on.

And then I burst out of thick copse and see them.

Joslyn is on her back in the underbrush of fallen pine needles and twigs. Her attacker is on top of her with his hands locked around her throat. She’s writhing and bucking and scratching at him.

Like a charging bull, I take off and head directly at them. He hears me coming at the last moment, turning his face sideways—eyes widening in shock as I bolt at him like a thundering locomotive. I lower my shoulder and plow into the man, lifting him clear off Joslyn’s body. We both go crashing to the forest floor.

We hit hard, but I take the brunt of it as the force of my impact had me hitting the ground first with him on top of me. With a hard grunt, I roll immediately to my feet and reach for my gun. I have it pulled, cocked, and aimed at his head before he even struggles to his feet.

I spare the briefest of glances at Joslyn to see her scrambling to her feet. Her appearance tells me I’m not sure I’m going to be able to kill him quickly.

She’s got red marks around her throat, and the left side of her face is red and swollen. There are dark purple marks all over her body, along with cuts and bloody welts that are probably from her panicked flight into the forest. She takes a few halting steps toward me and falters, falling to her knees. When I look down at her feet, I realize they’re covered in blood.

My gaze goes back to Scott Carlisle, and I promise him retribution. “Going to fucking kill you.”

Scott grins, his teeth flashing as he starts to laugh. “No, you’re not. You’re the good guys. You have a moral obligation to turn me over to the police.”

With the gun pointed at his head, I take three paces and come to a stop with the barrel planted right between his eyes. To give him credit, he doesn’t flinch.

Much.

I push the gun harder into his head, and he rocks backward. “Don’t even think you know anything about me,” I growl.

Scott sneers. “I know your girl feels mighty fine. Had a good old time with her before you showed up.”

“That’s a lie,” Joslyn screams, and I cut my eyes to her. She’s adamantly shaking her head. “He didn’t touch me that way, Kynan. Don’t do something you’re going to regret.”

Scott starts laughing, and it sounds maniacal. He throws his thumb over his shoulder at Joslyn, who is still sitting on the ground behind him. “Isn’t that sweet? She’s trying to protect me.”

“So he doesn’t kill you, you fucking creep,” Joslyn shrieks. “I don’t want that on his conscience.”

I push the barrel of my gun into Carlisle’s forehead and tilt my head, giving him a sly smile.

“Don’t worry honey,” I say to Joslyn, my eyes pinned on the man. “Where this guy is concerned, I don’t have a conscience. It would be nothing for me to pull this trigger and splatter his brains all over the pine trees.”

“You seem like a pretty bad-ass guy,” Scott muses. “But I have to wonder how much of that bravery is because you have a gun and I don’t?”

Before I can answer, I hear rustling in the trees. Without taking my eyes off Scott Carlisle, I listen attentively to the sounds. I know who it is, and I’m not surprised when Cruce and Saint come bursting through the foliage. Saint looks utterly ridiculous in his expensive silk suit.

“You guys caught up to me a lot faster than I thought you would,” I drawl. I nod toward Joslyn. “Saint… be a gentleman and give your jacket to my girl.”

“She’s not your girl,” Scott snaps, sounding like a petulant child. “I’ve marked her. She’ll never fully belong to you.”

“He’s lying,” Joslyn screams again, and I spend a brief second of my attention to see Saint covering her with his big coat. He kneels beside her, then takes one of her hands to examine the wounds around her wrist, which are caked with dried blood.