Page 32 of My Temptation

My head shot up, and I stared at Brody while Kyle repeated what he’d just told Striker. “You got an address for that bunker?”

“Not yet.” Kyle frowned. “I’ll search the deeds in the area.”

I wasn’t waiting for that. If Rick had that bunker, then Max knew about it. My gut told me there was no better place to hide Beth than in an underground bunker to stay out of sight until he got what he needed from her.

Standing, I pointed at Striker. “While he does that, let’s pay Rick a visit and ask him some questions.”

Striker nodded and headed toward the door, but Brody blocked our path. It wouldn't end well if Brody tried to stop us from leaving. Striker needed a task right now, and the longer he stood around waiting, the more unpredictable he’d become. I’d only known him a few months and recognized that, which meant Brody knew that as well.

“I’m sending Ethan with you. Have Mila and him search the house. Get what you can from him, but he needs to be alive when your meeting is over.” He waited for Striker to jerk up his chin, and he continued. “We’ll stay back with Kyle and keep digging. Call in any information so we can dispatch immediately, and we’ll do the same. We won’t share this information yet. I don’t want him to freeze up if he sees the cops.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t make me regret this.”

I moved past him but heard him lower his voice when speaking to Striker. “Stay calm and patient, brother. You can’t save her any other way.”

I waited for Striker to pass me and followed him out the doors, not surprised when Ethan caught up to us. We headed for his truck, where I jumped in the back and held on, knowing Ethan wouldn’t waste any time getting there.

None of us spoke while we drove to the house, and I wasn’t surprised. There was nothing to say. We knew we could lose her. We knew she could already be dead or even out of the state, and that this was all we had after hours of searching for anything.

Striker jumped out of the truck as soon as Ethan slowed down in front of Rick Skinner’s house, and we followed him. He kicked in the door and grabbed Rick as he tried to run up the stairs before looking over his shoulder at me. “Start looking.”

With a nod, I headed up the stairs, and Ethan followed me. “What are we looking for?”

I entered the room right at the top of the stairs and flicked on the light. “Anything that has to do with that bunker,” I said as I rifled through drawers. “Keys, an address, any piece of paper that might have GPS coordinates on it.”

“Gotcha,” Ethan said, moving across the room toward a dresser. We worked silently, but I became increasingly frustrated when I couldn’t find anything.

“Mila!”

My head snapped up when Striker’s voice roared my name. Ethan and I shared a glance before running out of the room and down the stairs into the kitchen.

My eyes met Striker’s before dropping to see Rick Skinner’s head pinned to the counter beside the sink. Rick’s face was soaked, and it was obvious he’d used a tame version of waterboarding to get information out of him. Tame or not, waterboarding sucked, which was why it usually worked.

“Basement in a tube in the rafters. Look for a map.”

Once again, I didn’t answer. Ethan found the stairs leading to the basement, and I ran behind him, pulling on strings attached to light bulbs hanging from the ceiling so I could see. It only took a minute to see the white tube in the back corner.

“There.” I pointed, looking for something to stand on while rushing to the back corner of the basement. I wasn’t short, but I also wasn’t eight feet tall like these ceilings.

But Ethan was tall, at least six feet two inches if I had to guess. He pushed to his toes and grabbed the corner of the tube, which was just enough to pull the whole thing down. He handed it to me, and I peered inside, seeing the tube, before pulling out a rolled piece of paper. When I saw the drawing of a building and the land surrounding it, I threw the tube to the floor and headed back toward the stairs.

When we cleared the top of the stairs, I headed straight for the kitchen, held up the map, and grinned. “Got it.”

We were out the door in seconds and back in the truck. I climbed in the back and sat beside Striker just as he began speaking, but I knew he was talking to Ethan, who had already shot out of the driveway and was turning onto the main road. “Kyle said to head west. We’re looking for about four acres off Ash Street.”

Striker unrolled the map and laid it over our legs. Grabbing my cell phone from my pocket, I snapped a picture of the map and quickly texted it to Kyle. “Sent a pic to Kyle.”

We swayed along with the truck while Ethan drove, but our eyes were on the map. It was less than fifteen minutes when Ethan spoke. “I think this is it.”

Striker and I looked up, but I didn’t recognize anything about the empty field we drove toward. I needed to see a marking, a tree, anything that told me this field was the one when there were dozens of old farms out here. “Drive across the field.”

We scanned the area, and when Striker leaned between the front seats, I knew we saw the same thing. Something I could only describe as relief mixed with apprehension tore through me. We’d found a familiar tree line, but that could also mean we might find Beth no longer breathing. “There. Go toward those trees.”

Ethan came to a stop right in front of the trees, and we all hopped out, immediately dropping our eyes. We knew the top of the bunker would be concealed, but there had to be a way to find a handle or something to mark the hatch that would need to be opened to enter. It was only when I heard his boots hit concrete, that I realized Striker found it and never called out to us.

Running across the open field, I called out to Ethan. “Text Brody and wait here to show him exactly where we are.”

“Mila!” he shouted, but I didn’t reply nor did I stop running. I’d never commanded a team, but I felt like between us, I’d been in more situations than Ethan had and had a better understanding of what needed to be done next. The fact that I knew he would do what I said, that he trusted I knew what to do, only made me appreciate him more.

My foot hit the top step just as a gunshot rang out, and I flew down the stairs. I heard voices behind me, but my eyes locked on Max Skinner lying on the ground. Pointing my gun at him, I surveyed the room quickly. Seeing Beth awake and leaning against the concrete wall, I ran toward Striker, who lay on the concrete floor across from Skinner. Dropping to my knees, I ripped open Striker’s shirt, but there was too much blood. I grabbed the hem of my shirt, pulled it over my head, and cleaned off his chest, eventually finding the source to apply pressure. My head snapped up when the voices I’d heard were louder, and I met Kyle’s eyes across the room.

---