Page 13 of Thorn

Her dad, after all, didn’t live with her disabilities and could never understand her struggles in anything but an intellectual way.

Maybe these men could just kill her and end this.

Juliette thought that might be too much to hope for.

After all, they didn’t just shoot her in the street. They took her away at gun point. That was her mistake. She got into their car to protect the little boy from stray bullets. If she’d fought these men, they might have just killed her.

What were they going to do with her?

If she could just remember what happened after she passed by Ballroom C the first time she’d seen these men, then maybe she’d know what was in store for her. What they wanted.

Hot tears made a rivulet along Juliette’s nose, followed the swirl of her nostril, and dripped onto her lips.

Saltylike the ocean waveswas her last thought before she let herself stop struggling, and she was swept back into the darkness.

Chapter Seven

Thorn

Brussels, Belgium

Saturday, Thirteen Forty-five Hours

“Yeah, baby,” Thorn hooted as their car bounced over the railroad tracks and landed on the road on the other side.

DuBois swung his head to look out the back window as the high-speed train zipped along the track behind their bumper. His hand white-knuckle gripped the leather headrest of Gage’s front seat.

Gage’s knee-jerk decision lit Thorn’s system. Thorn rubbed a hand over his face as he laughed, part relief, part astonishment, mostly holy shit!

He couldn’t believe Gage had tried that.

Gage had balls of steel, that was damned sure.

They’d come up on the tracks with the safety gate already lowered. Yellow lights flashing. The train in view. There was nowhere to turn off. Deep ditches on either side of the roadway, and the motorcycles hot on their tail.

Boom.Gage accelerated forward. Splintering wood flew. Thorn was sure that the train had just peeled the paint off the car, the engine was moving that fast, and it had been that close.

Honey got out to inspect the car. Reaching down he pulled a slab of red and white striped wood from the grill. “Broken headlights,” he called. “Needs a new bumper and a paint job. Let’s get moving. I can’t see the end of the train, but I’d like to get some distance between us and the biker gang behind it.”

Gage rolled up the windows as Honey got back in and adjusted his safety belt.

After powering down the country roads, they drove more sedately as they hit the suburbs. Nutsbe was reeling them in, using all the technology at his disposal.

It had been one hell of a chase. Those guys on their motorcycles were top notch. Professionals. Thorn wondered whose team they played on…Omega? The gray-lady? Another player? Some intel would go a far piece right now.

After a circuitous route, they’d pulled into a garage, waiting open.

A man stood by the open door, scratching the back of his head.

Thorn powered down the window.

The man looked at each face in the car, then held up his phone and swiped from photo to photo. With a nod, he handed Thorn a set of car keys and flicked his hand toward the car parked to their left.

The team piled out of their broken BMW.

“We’ve got to get DuBois on to the safe house.” Honey tugged DuBois from the back seat, a tight grip on the back of his coat collar. “We left the second rental car back at the airport garage.” He lifted a chin toward Thorn. “It’s got your computer and duffle. We don’t want anyone to get hold of it. Gage and I will move DuBois. You take this wreck back and handle the cars. Head to a hotel for the night in case you pick up a tail. We’ll get a plan in play. Obviously, DuBois can’t get on that redeye in the morning.”

“Nutsbe, do you want me to get DuBois’s luggage?” Thorn asked.

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