Page 95 of Renegade

I pulled Lauren into my arms and kissed her gently. “Just do what I said. Tell them you came up here to meet her and found this—don’t touch anything.”

She nodded, but it was obvious she was still lost. I wasn’t waiting around to explain it to her. I knew if we waited and went through all the proper channels, Elizabeth would end up like Katya…or worse.

I retrieved my Glock and handed David my spare .40 caliber Smith & Wesson. “We’re gonna need these.” We were expecting the blizzard of the century tonight and I’d bet money that whoever took her was counting on that to delay a search.

I pulled out my cell phone and double checked her location again before firing off a quick text to Grey.

Me-

“911—33°17'04.4"N 101°56'52.4"W.”

“David, I’m gonna need you to pull up the app. Make sure her location doesn’t move from that spot. Okay?”

He nodded. “Just fucking drive as fast as you can, Mike. She’s twenty-eight weeks pregnant—who would take her?”

I had an idea. And if I was right, we needed to get there sooner rather than later. Grey texted back.

“10-4. North location.”

I nodded and tucked the phone back into the cup-holder. This time the club was going to get clean-up duty for me. David gave me updates, but otherwise neither one of us spoke. I wasn’t about to tell him I’d reached out to Grey for back-up. It was too reminiscent of Patrick.

“I want to kill this guy myself.”

I turned to David in surprise. “What?”

He continued talking, while staring straight ahead. “You told me that if there was ever a time that I needed it, you would cover up for me. I wanna cash in that favor now.”

I nodded. “Consider it done.”

We pulled up to an old farmhouse and jumped out to the sound of screaming. David didn’t hesitate, just ran inside, screaming Elizabeth’s name.

“Where the fuck is she?” He yelled wildly as I ran in behind him.

I pointed to a shut door and held a finger to my lips, trying to convey that the element of surprise could be the only thing that kept us alive. “Basement. Go.”

He didn’t heed my warning and ran down the stairs, gun drawn. I’d only made it down three of the steps when I realized my suspicion was correct. Landon Scott had his arm around Elizabeth’s throat, slowly choking her to death.

I was ready to end him, but I’d promised David. “David?” I questioned, but he just stood there, his gun trained on Landon, and a look of helplessness on his face.

He couldn’t do it.

Something jumped out of the corner and I trained my gun on it as it sank a screwdriver in between Landon’s shoulder blades. He immediately dropped Elizabeth and turned on his attacker, a woman. With his hand on her throat, he backed her into a wall.

I brought the gun down and fired a round off into the back of his left calf. His tibia and fibula broke through the skin and he fell forward onto the dirt floor with a loud exhale.

I rushed over to the woman and pulled him off of her. She reminded me of a documentary I watched on the Holocaust. A walking skeleton, covered by a thin layer of skin. I couldn’t imagine where she’d found the energy to stab Landon, to be honest.

I knelt down in front of her, trying to match her face to any of the missing person posters littering the station wall. “I’m Detective Michael Sullivan. Can you tell me your name, ma’am?”

“Ka-Katya.”

Holy fuck.

She looked nothing like the woman whose face was plastered across billboards and posters.

With wide eyes, I asked, “Egorichev?”

She nodded and I inspected the shallow cuts and purple bruises on her face. She winced and moved away from my hand. When Elizabeth groaned, I turned back to David.

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