They’d dropped him off for practice, driven away. He’d figured he’d see them later.
He’d buried them later.
“Cale, it’s okay.” Cassidy’s fingers swept over his cheek. Gunfire rang out again. The sniper? Keeping Logan in check?
He had to help Cassidy. If he didn’t—
“Nothing’s okay,” Genevieve shouted. “It hasn’t been okay since you took away Ian. You thought you were so damn clever. You should have been the one to suffer that day, not him!”
He should have seen it sooner. Genevieve hadn’t been the victim in Rio. She’d been the accomplice—maybe the accomplice in all of the abductions. The inside man—woman—who’d gotten close to the prey.
Who’d learned their weaknesses, their secrets.
Just like she’d learned Cassidy’s.
“He’s going to bleed out there. He’ll be dead before any help can arrive,” Genevieve taunted.
“No!” Cassidy yelled. “He’s not!”
More gunfire. Rat-a-tat. Only it seemed like—how many people were firing? Two? Three? So much gunfire.
“Step away from him, Cassidy! Come with me now, or I’ll put a bullet in his head.”
The gun that had been tossed aside...she must have it.
“I was going to kill you at the EOD. I was so enraged that day, hurting because you took Ian!”
Genevieve had been the shooter? Wasn’t she just a woman with some deadly talents.
“But then I realized your death would be too easy. You have to hurt, like I hurt...”
Cale realized exactly what punishment Genevieve had in mind for Cassidy. One lover’s life for another.
Cassidy’s breath heaved out. She must have realized Genevieve’s plan, too, because suddenly she pressed her body flush to his. “Don’t leave me,” Cassidy whispered to Cale. Then she curled her body around his, protected him.
No. The cry was his, but he couldn’t speak.
“Get away from him!” Genevieve’s voice was higher. Wilder. But she wasn’t shooting.
Because she wants Cassidy alive. Genevieve knew that she could use Cassidy to get to Mercer. She knows all about the EOD. She’s been playing us all.
A deadly game that was coming to an end.
“I won’t leave him!” Cassidy was holding him tightly. Trying to put pressure on his wound, trying to shield him.
“I’ll shoot through you!” Genevieve’s footsteps scuttled toward them.
A dead daughter couldn’t be used against Mercer.
But a live hostage could.
His own weapon was just inches away. He tried to move his hand, but every damn part of him hurt now. The pain was consuming him, sweeping over him in an engulfing wave even as darkness flickered around him.
Too much blood loss. An injury too deep.
A groan broke from him.
“Get away from him!” Genevieve was screaming even louder now, her voice almost breaking. “He dies, just like Ian died. He killed Ian, so I’ll kill him! Death for death! Death for—”