Page 69 of Unchained

“Stop.” Leonetti’s calm baritone reverberated through the room. The click of a gun cocking sounded behind Brooks’s head. He glanced over his shoulder to see the guard he’d just pushed holding a gun to his skull.

Brooks shifted his gaze to Cam. Tears rolled down her cheeks. The bright overhead lights washed out her skin, paling her lips even more. A purplish-red bruise stained her cheekbone. Rage ticked against his skull. He’d make Leonetti regret touching her.

Cam struggled against the restraints. “Brooks,” she said, the table rattling beneath her. “I’m sorry.”

Her words wound around his heart, squeezing the life out of him. He couldn’t talk to her. Couldn’t do more than bunch his hands into fists at his sides to stop himself from getting them both killed.

“You said you’d let her go if I came,” Brooks said, through gritted teeth.

Leonetti nodded then reached into his pocket. “That’s what I said. But I need another participant.” A sly grin melted his cheeks.

“Fuck you!” Cam spat on Leonetti’s lab coat, and it splattered on the doctor’s face. Leonetti wiped his cheek with his sleeve. A hard glint flashed in his eyes.

Brooks lunged forward again and tore at the restraints on Cam, freeing one of her hands. Leonetti kept Cam pinned to the table in a tug-of-war. The guard kept the gun trained on Brooks, moving to get a better angle.

“Let her go!” Brooks bellowed, his body anticipating the bullet entering his brain. He grabbed Leonetti by the collar of his shirt and tossed him backward. He stumbled into the metal instrument tray and landed on his ass. Cam undid the strap on her left wrist, and Brooks released her feet.

“Grab him!” Leonetti yelled.

Brooks fought off a shudder. Every muscle in his body turned to stone, and the skin on his forearms threatened to snap. The guard’s shoulder connected to Brooks’s waist as the man tried to take him down. Brooks didn’t budge. Then he kneed the guard in the face, grabbed the back of his shirt, and rammed his head into the floor.

He turned his hot focus on Leonetti. The older man struggled to his knees then hauled himself up to a standing position. Brooks stomped forward and delivered a punch to Leonetti’s jaw. The man’s head snapped backward and he collapsed to the floor. It wasn’t good enough. No satisfaction touched the fire of hate burning inside him. Not only had Leonetti destroyed his family and his life, he’d tried to hurt Cam. Leaning forward, he grabbed Leonetti’s throat in his hands and squeezed.

Leonetti’s face turned beet red as his eyes bugged out of his head. His wire-rimmed glasses sat twisted on his face, a lens cracked. He grappled with Brooks’s wrists, trying to free himself while choking on hiccups of air.

“You sonofabitch,” Brooks wheezed.

Cam grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go!” Her frantic scream commanded his attention.

He grabbed her bicep and turned toward the exit. Cam rooted her feet into the ground. “This way,” she said, and steered him toward the back of the tent.

A radio crackled. “I need backup!” Leonetti gasped into the mic of the radio he’d pulled the pocket of his lab coat.

Fuck.

CHAPTER 22

Cam raced to the back of the tent and ripped at the zipper. A wave of déjà vu hit her. But this time, she’d escape. With Brooks.

Brooks’s fingers on the inside of her upper arm assured her he was present. Still, fear climbed up her spine as she stepped through the door. “Watch your head,” she whispered.

Brooks stepped out, ducking away from the branches.

“They went out the back!” Leonetti’s cry pierced the walls of the tent.

Cam grabbed his hand and towed him through the trees. “There’s a steep ravine ahead.” She picked up the pace, breaking into a run. Rocks cut at her wounded feet, but she didn’t care. She was too close to escaping. Brooks was here. Everything was okay now.

A flashlight’s beam lit up her body like a Christmas tree.

“There they are!” Men rushed through the trees.

Brooks cursed. He ushered her away. “Run! Nash will find you.”

She stopped, and her mouth dropped open. “I’m not leaving you!” The cry tore from her throat.

Brooks turned a ferocious scowl her way. “Now, dammit! Before you get us both killed!” He ran in the direction of the guards. Panic pulled at her body. A deep cold settled over her skin—she needed a weapon, a branch. Anything. She couldn’t leave him to be tortured and tested to death.

Brooks attacked the men as though he were a pit bull. Grabbing one of the guards by the neck, he threw him into the trunk of a tree. A sickening thunk followed. Next, he grabbed another guard’s gun, jabbing the handle of it into its owner’s face, then turned it and aimed it at the other men.

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