Tate (Mountain Men 3)

She wriggles her chair over just a little. I’m close enough I can shove her a little further with my foot.

“Oh! There he is! At the window!” And the idiots are dumb enough to actually look there. It’s just a quick enough distraction for me to shove her even further, and my heart soars in triumph as her fingers slide over the blade. She’s Cowen Clan born and raised. She’s brave and innovative.

They pace the room as Islan quickly begins to scrape the blade against one length of rope. Slowly, painstakingly at first, she gathers more freedom as the rope frays, moving more quickly now. Sweat beads on her brow, and a few times she has to hide the blade in the palm of her hand when they look her way, but they are now fully preoccupied with looking for the disappearing Tate.

And then everything happens. At once.

There’s a loud crash and boom, and the boxes to the far right explode into flames. The men at the door shoot and duck, as an entire army of men flood into the warehouse. Islan openly cuts her bonds, her hands moving rapidly. One rope falls to the floor. She tips her chair, catches herself on her shoulder, and manages to wriggle out of her bonds even as her hands are at my ropes, cutting me free.

Gunshots. Screams. Blood and carnage. I think the entire McCarthy Clan’s showed up for this ambush, with Tate and Keenan at the head. The two men at the door, our guards, are quickly immobilized, and after my hands are free, I look about me in surprise. No one’s killed. Every one of the men is bruised and bloodied, but merely incapacitated. Keenan’s army stands guard, heavily armed and ready to fight, as Tate makes his way toward us.

They’ll bring them in for questioning. A shudder runs through me.

Then he’s here, in front of me, larger than life, reaching both of us at the same time. Islan snorts. “Go on, then. Don’t give me that ‘blood’s thicker than water’ crap. Hug your damn wife.”

He reaches for me.

“Break up with your husband, my arse,” he mutters, and before I can respond, his mouth is on mine and I’m melting into him.

“Didn’t think you’d fall for it,” I breathe, when he finally releases me. “But we have to move. There’s so much more we need to find.”

“Aye, lassie. Interpol’s been activated, thanks to the bloody betrayal, and they’re on their way here.”

Islan winces, eying her lover under Keenan’s brutal interrogation. She turns away. I hate that for her. I hate it so fucking much.

“So much to tell you, Tate,” she says.

“Not yet,” I interrupt. “Trust me, it has to wait.”

“Aye. We get you out of here first. Then we fix the damage that’s been done.” Tate’s eyes look grave, as he looks about the room.

“I don’t understand why they took you. I don’t understand what they wanted,” he says, shaking his head. Then he sighs. “But I’ll ask them soon enough.”

“Aye. You will,” I say grimly. “I’m sure Keenan will bring them to his interrogation room in his basement, and then—”

He eyes me sharply. I wince. “I know a lot more than you think I do,” I confess. “But in this case… just trust me, it’s going to come in very handy, very soon.”

He bends and kisses me.

“I trust you. Now get your pretty arse out of here before I have to throw you over my shoulder.”

That won’t be necessary.

We’ve come through one battle relatively unscathed, but we aren’t out of this yet.

Chapter 19

Tate

“It was too easy. It was too bloody easy.” Fran looks around the room as if expecting someone to jump out at us at any moment.

“Fran.” I speak to her gently, aware that she may be experiencing some sort of trauma. She’s shivering, her arms wrapped around herself, and when I reach for her, she shrinks away. “Love, not sure how you can call a bloody fuckin’ ambush like we just did too easy.” Jesus, Keenan and his Clan came in droves, heavily armed and ready for war. The carnage around us bears testament to that.

She shakes her head. “No, that’s not it,” she says, then she gives me a watery smile. “I’m super impressed, by the way, don’t misunderstand. I mean, you guys did an awesome job.”

Did she get a head injury?

“But it isn’t that,” she says. “There’s something else going on, I know it. I can’t prove it yet, but you’ll see.” She winces. “I just hope that it all comes right in the end.”

What the bloody hell is she talking about?

“I’m sure we can—” a sudden, deafening explosion sounds behind me. Instinctively, I drag both Islan and Fran to the floor, as another explosion sounds. Parts of the ceiling fall, the walls crumbling around us, when I feel heat at my back.