Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Breathe,” he whispered, once again looking stricken. “You’ll be okay.”
I gasped, struggled against him, and finally I did as he commanded. My body trembled, and now I clung to him with no other choice. The man who had struck me. He watched, curious and confused.
I wasn’t able to move. Everything hurt, and I just wanted five minutes of rest. Five minutes where I wasn’t worried about what he was going to do to me next.
The last thing I expected was for him to pick me up and carry me to the bed. The silver lining to getting punched was I was no longer hungry. He seemed to sense how weak my defenses were and seized on the moment. “What are you hiding from me?”
“Leave me alone,” I begged.
“Tell me.” He made it clear he was determined to get an answer.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It was the truth. Did he mean the business card? The fact that I might be falling for Jason’s brother? Or that my sister was pregnant?
“This part will be hard, but we’ll get through it. You can make it through this in one piece.”
“I thought we weren’t going to lie to each other.”
“I’m not lying to you, Kara.” I hated the way he said my name. Softly, like a friend. “You keep fighting me and leaving me no choice.”
I was too tired to hold back the whimper. He undid the other handcuff and set them on the bed beside me.
“You have ten minutes to get dressed and put those back on. You’re not going to want me to do it.”
My eyes closed and I listened to his footsteps on the stairs. The now familiar sound of the bar latching was a starting pistol. Liberated hands hurried to pull the clothes on, shoving Shawn’s business card in my bra again, wanting it close.
That left me eight minutes to find a weapon in this spartan room.
I tried to pull the back off the toilet or to get at a part inside, but it was glued shut. There was nothing in the shower except for a tiny bottle of what I suspected was shampoo. The only other object was the bed. Could I use the sheet as a weapon? Was there part of the bed frame I could break?
The screws were rusted on and there was no way it was coming apart. Time was running out, and I stretched my arms gingerly, mindful of the wound. I would not go back to the handcuffs. So I marched them into the bathroom and threw them in the toilet, slamming the lid shut.
The plan that formed wasn’t great, but it was all I had.
26
SHAWN
The brewery had endured heavy Allied bombing during the war, and now this. The fire hadn’t spread, thanks to the updated sprinkler system my mother had the foresight to install. I’d been told retrofitting the old brewery with modern technology had been difficult and costly, and tonight it had saved the jewel of Osterhägen’s headquarters.
I couldn’t stand still, couldn’t stay here. The fire chief was giving a report on the damage, but my mind refused to retain the information for more than a few fleeting seconds. I knew I should remain calm and composed as the commander of my company. People would be looking to me for leadership.
Scheiße, how was I supposed to do that? Every hour that ticked by was worse than the last.
Black sludge flowed like a sick fountain from the windows down the east side of the building where they believed the blast had originated. Media had arrived, not far behind the authorities. Everyone assumed this was a terrorist attack.
No. There was no political motive here.
Jason called it a “smash and grab” job on a much larger scale.
Kara.
“Mr. Dunn?” It came from the man approaching. The dark figure was extremely tall, at least five centimeters taller than I was. Intense, furious eyes set above a determined look. “Where’s the marshal?”
The guy’s German was good, barely an accent, but it was there. American. Since he was referring to my brother that way . . . it could only be one person.
“You’re Ethan?” The worry for Kara had my emotions too jumbled to process how I should feel about the man before me. I switched to English. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to help, in any way I can. Whatever resources you or your brother need, you’ve got them.”
Earlier, Jason had gone off with the police, but he appeared now through the crowd of people. He charged toward us, a dark look on his face and his gaze locked on the tall man beside me. His right hand tensed into a fist.
I’d seen it before and knew what was coming.
But Ethan must have sensed it, too. He leaned back from the powerful right hook that would have laid him out if it had landed, leaving my brother swinging into the air. And with the follow-through, it exposed Jason’s back to the CIA operative. Powerful arms hooked him, one around his chest and the other around his neck, immobilizing him instantly.