Mine to Have (Mine #5)(56)

“Here!”

He spun around. His feet kicked against an old rug that had been left at the edge of the hall. And why the hell was that rug there? Everything else had been taken from the place.

He shoved the rug out of his way and saw the trapdoor that it had hidden. The house had a cellar. Well, no wonder the home had looked deserted from the outside. He lifted up the trapdoor and it gave a long, loud creak.

Darkness waited below him. He reached down and touched a wooden ladder that was connected to the wall. He climbed down, making certain to keep his gun ready.

When he touched down on the floor of that cellar or basement or whatever the hell it was, he pulled a pen light from his pocket and shone it around the area. There was a door on his right. He made his way to it and twisted the knob. Locked.

Like that ever stopped him. He kicked that door open, just as he’d done upstairs, and Victor rushed inside at the same time that the lights flashed on, far too bright. He blinked, caught off guard for a moment and blinded by the light, then something slammed into the back of his head. He hit the floor hard, but Victor rolled quickly, coming back up to his feet in a lunge. The broken remnants of a wooden chair were around him.

“Don’t even try it, hero,” a low voice growled at him. “You make a move at me, and I’ll take us all out.”

He could see the SOB talking to him, and Victor knew he was staring at Hugh Rowe. The guy looked just like his DMV picture—well, minus about ten pounds and with some scraggly-ass stubble covering his jaw. Hugh had a small, black device in his hand. And the jerk was grinning from ear to ear.

“Please…” A soft voice came from behind Victor. “He’s got the bomb on me.”

And Victor turned then to meet a pair of frightened green eyes. His gaze swept over the woman, noting her features—not delicate, but more sensual with her full lips and high cheekbones—her long, dark hair, her golden skin and—

The bomb that was strapped to her chest.

What the fuck did I walk into here? This wasn’t like any abduction that he’d ever seen.

“Drop the weapon,” Hugh snapped at him. “Or I’ll make the pretty girl go boom.”

Jaw locking, Victor did. Hugh scrambled forward and grabbed the gun. His right hand stayed locked around that little black device. A detonator.

“Now who the hell are you?” Hugh asked.

Victor faced him, trying to appear non-threatening. He knew he couldn’t make a move against the guy because he didn’t know enough about the bomb they were dealing with. “I’m an FBI Agent, and I’m here to rescue Ms. Peters.”

Hugh laughed. “Ain’t no one rescuing her. That bitch is going to pay.”

“I’ve told you a thousand times!” Zoe cried out, her voice sounding a bit hoarse. “I don’t even know you.”

“But I know you, too well,” Hugh said. He pointed the gun at Victor. “And you’re going to die, too, because I don’t want no FBI asshole messing up my plans!”

“You don’t want to shoot me,” Victor said. “That’s a bad idea. Especially considering that I can help you.” It wasn’t his first time in a hostage situation. He knew he had to keep the guy talking. But it is the first time an abducted woman has been wired to explode!

“You can’t help me! You can’t—”

“Luther Bates killed your father. Did you know that?”

The guy blanched. All of the color poured from his face. “No, no, that’s a lie! I’m waiting to get word from my dad now. He’s gonna tell me what to do next!”

“He’s not going to tell you a damn thing. He’s on a slab somewhere, if they haven’t already dumped his body in a grave near the prison.”

Zoe gasped behind Victor. “You shouldn’t have told him that.”

“But it’s true,” Victor said. If the guy had been following his father’s orders—and it sure sounded as if he had—then Hugh needed to know that the man wasn’t pulling his strings any longer. Titus Rowe was dead. “I was in the prison with Luther. I talked with him. He’s in solitaire because of what he did to Titus.”

The gun was shaking in Hugh’s hand. So was the detonator. Not good. The last thing he wanted was for a nervous finger to pull the trigger on the gun or to accidentally make that bomb explode.

“I’m guessing,” Victor continued quietly, “that Bates knew your father had ordered you to take Zoe. Bates killed your old man because of what he’d done.”

“No! He’s not dead! I’d know—”

“The cops couldn’t find you to tell you the news.” Because they’d probably just contacted Hugh’s boss in Charleston, and that guy had no idea where Hugh was. “Your father’s dead, Hugh. So you don’t have to carry out his dirty work any longer. You don’t have to hurt anyone else.”

The gun lowered. Victor’s shoulders remained stiff and his muscles locked. Lowering the gun is a good start. But he wanted that gun totally out of the guy’s hand. The gun and the detonator. “I need you to put down the gun and the bomb trigger. We’re all going to walk out of here together.”

But those words snapped Hugh’s head right back up. “She’s not going anywhere. She’s supposed to be dying today!”