Sophie Oak - One to Keep

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, a wealth of love for her filling his heart.

She’d been his mother in every way that counted.

His father stepped forward. “Stefan, I’ll come with you.” Stef looked at his father. His frail father was willing to go into god knows what with him. Jennifer had been right. It was past time to forgive him. Sebastian had made mistakes, but he was trying to fix them. One day his father wouldn’t be here, and Stef wouldn’t be able to work anything out. The time to fix things was now. He put his arms around his father. “I appreciate it, Dad. I do, but I’ll move better on my own. Stay here. I’ll come back. Dad, lock the doors after me. Shut the blinds. Unless you know the person, don’t let anyone in. Stella’s is closed for the day.”

Stef nearly ran out the door. In the distance, he could see Max and Rye running down the street from the park, but he didn’t have time to wait and wasn’t sure he should. Their son was about to be born. He couldn’t wait for Nate and Zane. He had to get to Jennifer, and he had to do it fast.

His mind racing with a thousand horrific scenarios, he tried to narrow his focus as he jogged between Stella’s and the gallery beside it. He crossed the street and went behind the town hall to get to the alley behind the buildings. He couldn’t go in the front door. It didn’t make a lick of sense to grab the painting and try to negotiate. The mob didn’t negotiate. And how exactly would he negotiate? No, he had one option and one option alone.

Kill them all.

Stef slowed as he reached the Sheriff’s Office. He thought about the building. Nate’s office was closest, and there was a small bathroom attached. The window was supposed to be permanently shut, but Rye had broken the lock years before during a summer heat wave when the air-conditioning had gone out. On quiet feet, Stef moved toward his destination. What had already happened to Jennifer? What had she gone through?

He forced himself to quell his panic. Rushing in and getting himself killed wouldn’t help Jennifer. He wasn’t sure how many were in the building, but they would all have guns. Mobsters had guns, probably more than one apiece. He would have to be careful and hope that Nate was careful, too. To that end, he quickly pulled out his cell and sent a text. God only knew if Nate would get it. The only sure way to get a hold of him while he was working was to call on his police radio, and the equipment for that was currently surrounded by the mob.

But he doubted they had all the bases covered. They could lock the front and back entrances, but he knew how to work this particular entrance. As quietly as he could, Stef pressed in on the lower pane of the window. His ungloved fingers were bitten by the cold, but he had to move with great care or he might make a sound that would alert them. Jennifer was counting on him. Slowly, surely, he pushed the window open and gripped the sill. It was tight, but he fit, lowering himself to the tiled floor of the bathroom. He could hear someone in the office. Adrenaline pumping through his system, Stef eased the safety off the Colt and listened at the door. He could hear people talking, but couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying. He gently turned the doorknob and opened the door slightly, wincing at the little creak.

Nate’s desk had been trashed. His pictures and files were tossed carelessly to the floor to make way for the body that lay atop it. Bile rose in his throat when he realized the body was in a bloodstained khaki uniform with a silver star on the chest.

Logan.

His chest rose just barely, as though only a thread of life remained.

Stef’s hand tightened on the gun as the outer door opened.

He shrank back, waiting for the perfect time to pounce.

Alexei followed Luka into the small office, his every nerve vibrating with tension. He’d begged Holly to stay calm, whispering into her ear, promising her he would save her. How was he going to save her? Any way he looked at it, he lost, and that meant she would lose as well. The minute he revealed himself to be less than the perfect soldier, he would be killed, and his “woman” would be fair game. If they had time, they would rape her before slitting her throat.

If they did not, then a bullet through the brain would end her very quickly.

Three against one. He had to find a way to even up the odds before he took the chance.

And then Pushkin had thrown it into his lap. He’d told Luka to kill the deputy.

No one would know that Alexei had killed Luka until he walked out of the office, guns blazing. It would give the women time to run.

It would give them a chance. That was all he could ask.

His heart was racing, his hand trembling. He had to do this right, or he would let them down.

“The boy was utterly useless,” Luka said in Russian as he approached the body on the desk.

The deputy’s hands had been bound with the telephone cord. His long legs dangled off the edge of the desk. They were still, so still it scared Alexei. Was the deputy already dead? His face was a bloated mess, seemingly just a mass of blood and bone and tissue with nothing to animate it. Alexei had seen this before, but now it made him sick. This man had done nothing to deserve his pain.

“Ah, well, at least the girl will be more fun.” Luka laughed as he pulled his gun. He put it to the young man’s forehead. Logan lay still beneath the gun.

Alexei whipped up his own pistol to kill Luka before he fired, but the report of gunfire blasted through the room, making his ear ache.

His heart nearly stopped as Luka turned and fell to his knees. The gun fell useless at his side. He began to bleed from the back of his head.

Looking up, Alexei saw a man move from the shadows where he’d clung like a wraith. Long and lean, the dark man slid into the room. His gun still smoked, heat flowing off it, but his eyes were arctic cold.

“Give me one good reason not to kill you.” He remembered this man. Jennifer was his woman. He’d come for his woman. Alexei dropped his arm to the side, along with the gun.

He kept his voice very low. “Because they will believe one shot, not two.”

“You were sent in here to kill Logan?” Alexei nodded. “I was not going to do it. I was going to kill Luka.

You were faster.”

“A nice little fairy tale.” The man’s voice was as cold as his eyes, but he seemed to listen to reason since Alexei wasn’t dead on the ground like Luka. “But I don’t know why I should believe you. I doubt Logan would believe you.”

“I don’t blow the sunshine up your asshole,” Alexei argued. He had to make him understand. There were two of them. They had a better shot if they worked together.

“Don’t, Stef.” The words were quiet, but Logan’s lips moved, and his bound hands came up. He spoke through cracked, bleeding lips.

“Don’t kill him.”

Stef’s face finally showed a flicker of emotion, a grimace of pain for his friend. “Don’t talk, Logan. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“There’s no way out. No way,” Logan muttered and mumbled something unintelligible.

“We must to move quickly,” Alexei said, fumbling for the English words. “Pushkin be expecting Luka. He is supposed to torture the girl.”

Stef’s face hardened again, his will implacably marked there.

“How many?”

Alexei finally let out a breath. The man was willing to be reasonable. “Only two, but the girls are out there. Holly and your girl are out there. Pushkin was very interested in your Jennifer. He thinks she knows where his painting is.”

“No, she doesn’t, but I do.” Stef pulled a knife from his back pocket. It was a utilitarian knife, and he used it to free Logan’s hands.

The deputy groaned quietly as he tried to flex them.

“It will not matter. He will not make bargains with you. He will say one thing but do another. If you offer a trade, he will kill everyone. He has to.” Alexei had seen Pushkin in action far too often.

He was a snake, and he would turn on anyone if he saw a profit in it.

The dark-haired man nodded. “I thought as much. He can’t leave us alive. He certainly won’t believe we won’t call the authorities. So we have to kill him. You willing to do that?” A malicious little joy lit Alexei’s heart. He had done the right thing. He had offered to give up his revenge, but now it landed in his lap as though the heavens had decreed it be so. He could save his soul and kill the man who had taken his brother. “Oh, I have waited many years to do such a thing. But, I won’t have the women harmed. I would rather he go free than risk them.”

“I would rather get the lay of the land. We can’t just walk out shooting. We could hit one of the women.”

“Holly knows what I do. She is supposed to cause some chaos.

How about we cause some chaos of our own?” Stef hesitated, but Logan managed to reach out and take his hand.

Stef looked down at the deputy. He could only get one eye open. The other was swollen shut. Logan swallowed before he spoke. “You can trust him. They would have killed me and Holly. He told us what to do.”

“He’s the reason we’re all here,” Stef argued.

“Is there a problem, Luka?” The throaty Russian voice rang through the building.

Stef’s entire body tensed as Alexei clutched the doorknob. It was time to decide.

“Are you in the in door or going to the outs?” Stef snarled, but stepped forward. “If I live through this, you’re getting English slang lessons. It’s just ‘are you in or out.’” Alexei raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. I’m in.”