Page 4 of Gage

“This might hurt,” I warned softly, though I wasn’t sure they could hear me. My hands shook as I peeled the tape away from their mouths, trying to be as gentle as I could. My fingers brushed against raw, red skin where the adhesive had dug in. The rage simmering inside me boiled over—I wanted to find the bastard who did this and make him pay.

I bolted for the door, shouting for help. The sound of heavy boots on the stairs made me turn, relief flickering briefly—until I saw the gun pointed directly at me.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I growled, my voice low and sharp. “Help me with these women!”

The officer hesitated, confusion and alarm flashing across his face. Recognition dawned as he lowered the weapon. “Jessica, it’s true then,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “He’s as crazy as she said he was. Oh my God, what has he done to you?”

Two officers stepped forward, their expressions shifting from suspicion to horror as they took in the scene. One of them glanced at me, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the blood dripping down the side of my face.

“Your head’s bleeding,” he said, his tone laced with concern.

“Yeah,” I snapped tersely, brushing the comment aside. “He hit me with his gun, but I managed to tie him up.”

The officer’s face paled. “We untied him.”

A cold, unhinged laugh echoed from behind us, sending a chill down my spine. I spun around, my instincts screaming, just in time to see the bastard aiming a gun at us. Timeseemed to stretch painfully thin, every second dragging as my heart slammed against my ribs. Before he could pull the trigger, one of the officers fired. The deafening crack of the gunshot reverberated through the attic. The man dropped instantly, the gun slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor.

One of the women stirred, a faint whimper escaping as her eyelids fluttered open. Her gaze landed on the officer, and she let out a terrified cry, her voice raw and broken.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said gently, his tone steady and soothing. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

The woman’s wide, fearful eyes darted to her mother and sister, who were also beginning to regain consciousness. They huddled together, trembling, their tears falling silently as they clung to one another.

I knelt beside them, my voice softening as I addressed the woman I assumed was Jessica. “My name is Gage Sparrow. Your sister hired us to rescue you, your sister, and your mother. We’re taking you to Greece.”

The officer stepped closer, his expression conflicted. “Why don’t I call an ambulance so they can be checked at the hospital?”

“No hospital,” the mother said firmly, her voice hoarse but resolute. “Let’s go home, girls.”

We helped them to their feet, supporting their bruised and battered bodies. They wobbled with every step, their exhaustion and pain evident. As we passed the lifeless body of their captor, something seemed to spark in them. Despite their fragility, each woman delivered a swift, furious kick to the man. The dull thuds of their boots against his side echoed with their pent-up anger and defiance.

“Do you need to grab anything before we leave?” I asked, keeping my tone calm and even.

“We’ll shower and change first,” the mother replied. Her face twisted briefly in pain, and she clutched her side with a sharp intake of breath.

“Are you okay?” I asked, concern flickering in my chest.

“I think I have a few broken ribs,” she admitted, her voice tight. “That bastard thought he could kill us and leave us stuffed in that hole. I’m so thankful Gigi figured out something was wrong. We just want to put this behind us and never return here.”

As we guided them out of the attic, the weight of their ordeal hung heavy in the air. The sisters moved in silence, their faces blank and hollow with shock. Raven and Oliver flanked them, their eyes scanning the shadows for any remaining threat.

Two hours later, we arrived at the airport. The icy wind whipped at our faces as we crossed the tarmac toward the plane, the cold cutting through even the thickest layers. Suddenly, a loud, angry voice rang out behind us, piercing through the howl of the wind.

“I can’t believe I missed my flight!”

Raven glanced back, his pace slowing, but I barked, “Keep walking.”

Oliver stopped abruptly, his expression startled. “Lori?” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief.

I turned, my gaze locking onto her—First Lieutenant Laura Daniels. Memories surged back like a flash flood: her petite frame hunched over wires and equipment, her hands moving deftly as she fixed things no one else could. I remembered the day I’d dragged her to cover after a bomb went off, the way her hood had fallen back, revealing a cascade of beautiful red hair that gleamed in the sun like liquid fire.

Now, she stood before us, her sharp eyes scanning the group. A faint smile curved her lips as she noticed the recognition on our faces. Before I realized it, we were all saluting her.

“Stand down, men,” she said, her voice calm but tinged with amusement.

4

Lori

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