Maya Banks - Sweet Surrender

“I’m going to take a guess here and say you’re Samuels?” Gray said in an even voice.

The gunman sneered. “Does it really matter who I am?”

“It does if you killed my partner.”

Faith huddled close to Gray’s back, clutching at him with her hands. He still had a hand on her wrist as he held it behind his back, and he rubbed up and down her skin in a soothing manner. He could feel how frightened she was, and it pissed him off all the more.

How the hell had Samuels found them? And for that matter, how did Mick end up mixed up in this? Mick’s threat about taking Samuels down himself echoed in his mind. Damn fool was going to get them all killed.

“What do you want?” Gray demanded. “How the hell did you get here?”

“I want the girl,” Samuels said.

Gray felt Faith tremble against his back, and he squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“That’s not going to happen,” Gray said in a dangerously low voice.

“Let her go,” Mick said bitterly. “She doesn’t matter.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mick,” Gray growled. “What were you thinking, going after Samuels alone? Are you just trying to get us all killed?”

“Both of you shut up,” Samuels barked. “The bitch’s mother is anxious to see her. I’m sure her old man will be willing to cough up some cash if he wants to see her alive again.”

Faith stiffened, and before he could pull her back, she stepped from behind him and stared at Samuels. “What does my mother have to do with this? What’s going on?”

“Faith, get behind me,” Gray said slowly.

Samuels tightened his grip around Mick’s neck and pointed the gun at Faith. “Move over,” he ordered, gesturing to the left with his gun. “Move, or I’ll shoot you.”

Faith stood stock-still, whether out of fear or the fact that she was in shock. “How do you know my mother?” she demanded. And then understanding flashed in her eyes. “You’re the man my mother was with. Why she was calling and asking for money. You’re the one I heard in the background.” She turned her confused gaze to Gray. “But what does that have to do with your partner?”

“They used you as bait, sweetheart,” Samuels said. “Too bad they’re so incompetent. Now, get moving. I don’t have time for all the drama.”

Gray’s heart clenched at the confused, hurt look in Faith’s eyes. But more than that, things were getting desperate. He couldn’t take Samuels down, not when he was pointing a gun at Faith.

“What do you mean, used me as bait?” she said.

“I sent him to Houston,” Mick said, his face growing red as his anger exploded.

“Mick, shut up,” Gray said.

“Sent him to Houston why?” she asked softly.

“To get close to you.”

“But why? I don’t understand.” Her voice echoed her bewilderment.

In a flash, Samuels shoved Mick, sending him stumbling across the living room. He reached out and yanked Faith to his chest, repositioning the gun at her temple.

“Now, that’s better,” Samuels said, satisfaction lining his voice. “Let me make this simple for you, sweetheart. Just so you know what a bastard your lover is. The old man over there sent lover boy to Houston to cozy up to you because he knew I’d hooked up with your mother. And then lover boy brings you out here to lure me out.”

Samuels looked over at Gray. “Were you planning to take me out yourself? Bet you didn’t tell your buddies in Houston that. Quite the sting operation they were running. The decoy looked remarkably like Faith. I probably would have fallen for it if the old man hadn’t let it slip where you were holding her. But then I guess that was all part of the plan. Only I decided to change things up a bit. I’m not entirely stupid.”

Faith looked shell-shocked. Hurt and confusion emanated from every part of her body. “Is it true?” she whispered.

Gray wasn’t going to waste time begging for her understanding. That could come later. Right now his focus was on keeping Samuels from taking her. He ignored her question and tuned out the betrayal in her stare.

“You won’t get very far,” he said evenly. “You’re on an island, for God’s sake. How do you think you’re going to get off with a hostage?”

“The same way I got on with one,” Samuels said with a chuckle.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mick make a move. Gray tried to reach him, to prevent the stupid action, but Mick hurtled himself forward, like an out-of-control lunatic. He didn’t care about Faith or whether she got hurt, he only saw his son’s killer.

It all happened so quickly. The loud report of gunfire. Faith’s scream. Mick crumpling to the floor. It was the night of Alex’s shooting all over again, and he was powerless to stop it. Another shot sounded, and a searing pain blazed through his arm. The last thing he remembered as he crumpled to the floor was the look of fear and betrayal in Faith’s eyes.

Pain. It was the one thing he was aware of as he opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Gray blinked, and then the memory of what happened came roaring back.

He flipped himself over, ignoring the surge of agony that blasted through his chest. He put an experimental hand up to his shoulder, and looked as he pulled it away again. Red. Bright red blood. Fuck.

He scrambled over to where Mick lay. He rolled the older man over, his chest tightening when he saw the massive chest wound. He knew before he felt for a pulse that he would find none.

Tears burned his eyes. He was so goddamn angry. Mick’s death was as pointless as Alex’s. And now Faith’s life was in danger.

The room swam in his vision. He felt light-headed and weak from the blood loss. In his pocket, he felt his phone pulse and vibrate. Ignoring the screaming pain shooting through his body, he thrust his hand into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He flipped it open and shoved it to his ear just as he collapsed back to the floor.

Micah didn’t even wait for him to mutter a greeting. He started sounding off, cursing a blue streak.

“Slow down,” Gray said weakly. “What was that about a news story?”

“Your fucking buddy Mick set you up. You have to get the hell out of there, Gray. He went on the goddamn news going on about the operation and how you and Faith were in hiding—”

“It’s too late,” Gray managed to rasp out. “He’s been here. He has Faith. Mick’s dead. I’ve been shot. Need help.”

“Oh Christ. Fuck. Man, are you okay? Talk to me. Hold the line while I call the damn ambulance.”

“Not dying. Just feel like it. I think.”

Again Micah cursed. Gray heard him yell at someone in the background and then vaguely heard him tell a 911 operator the situation and the address of the beach house.

Micah’s voice grew dimmer and dimmer. He gritted his teeth and tried to hold on. At some point, Nathan got on the phone, but none of what he said made sense. It was all a garbled mess.

“Find Faith,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about me. You have to find Faith.”

He faintly registered someone shouting his name, but he wasn’t strong enough to hold the phone to his ear any longer. It clattered to the floor as the room went dark once again.

Blinding light pierced his eyeballs as someone peeled back his eyelids. He shook his head and snapped his eyes shut again.

“Come on, son, wake up.”

Gray let his eyes flutter open.

“Ah, that’s better.”

The room came into focus, and Gray realized he was in a hospital bed. A man he presumed was a doctor stared at him from a few feet away, clipboard in hand.

Gray’s gaze skirted around the room until he saw Micah standing in the far corner, phone to his ear.

“Where’s Faith?” he rasped.

Micah snapped the phone shut and hurried to the bed. “Shit, man, you scared the hell out of me. It’s about damn time you woke up.”

Gray looked between him and the doctor. “How long have I been out?”

“A little over twenty-four hours,” the doctor replied.

Gray let out a stream of curses, and he struggled to get out of the bed.

“Whoa, son, where do you think you’re going?” the doctor demanded as he put a hand on Gray’s chest and shoved him back down on the bed.

Gray looked desperately at Micah. “Faith. Where is she? Have you found her?”

Micah’s expression was grim as he shook his head. “Sorry, man. Nothing yet.”

Gray shut his eyes and thumped his head against the pillow. “I have to get out of here. I have to find her.”

The doctor frowned and turned his disapproving stare on Gray. “You won’t be going anywhere today.”

“How bad is it?” Gray demanded, as he gestured toward his heavily bandaged shoulder.

“Not nearly as bad as it could be,” the doctor said in a placating voice. “Just a flesh wound. I stitched you up. Our main concern was the loss of blood. Sometimes the simplest wounds bleed badly.”

“If it’s just a flesh wound, then I can get the hell out of here,” Gray growled.

“You need to rest. I might consider letting you go tomorrow, although I’d prefer you to stay a few days. We have to monitor you for infection.”

“I’m leaving today,” Gray said through gritted teeth. “Write me a damn prescription for some painkillers and some antibiotics, and I’ll be good to go.”

“If you leave, you’ll have to sign as AMA.”

“I don’t give a shit. I’m walking out of here, with or without your permission.”

He glanced at Micah, expecting to get grief from that corner, but Micah stayed silent.

The doctor sighed. “All right, but I’m going on record that you’re leaving against strict medical advice. I’ll write the prescriptions. Be sure and take those antibiotics. If you start running fever or your wound gets red and inflamed or swells more, then you get your ass back here.”