Page 26 of Reclaiming his Honor
“Lift your head,” he insisted.
She did as she was told, finding him standing far too close to her, his mouth mere inches from hers. He put his hands on her hips and she tried to wiggle away from his touch, but he pushed her back against the wall and pinned her body with his hips and evidence of his arousal. She spit in his face.
Anger hardened his features as he wiped his cheek with the back of his arm, then took her head roughly in his hands, holding her still, and kissed her.
“Get off of me!” she yelled against his mouth. He squeezed her head more tightly and wrestled her for control. She drew her knee up hard into his crotch and he yelped in pain, doubling over.
This time, he punched her hard in the side of the head, the blow making the already dark room fade to black as Ellie slumped to the floor, unconscious.
CHAPTER16
Mac led the way into the abandoned dog racing track. They’d found Turner’s car beside the building, a pair of wire cutters and several drops of fresh blood on the backseat, along with Ellie’s purse.
Lewis had acted like a caged animal, desperate to find his mother and go after the man responsible for hurting her. He begged to join them as Mac, Sloan, and Moto loaded their weapons and put on their protective vests and gear.
“You need to stay here,” insisted Mac. “Call the police. Give them our location. Then stay in the car. You’re more likely to get yourself shot than to help us rescue your mom, do you understand?”
“What if you need another pair of hands? I’ll do whatever you say.”
“I say stay here, and that’s final.”
Mac skated along the concrete wall, the other men on his six, and prayed the boy would listen. As a child, Lewis had been hellbent on doing whatever he wanted, rules and consequences be damned, and Mac was relatively certain that hadn’t changed, which made the boy one hell of a liability.
They moved with quiet stealth, their night vision goggles allowing them to see. Ellie was here. He could feel it, and he would stop at nothing until she was safe.
Take me, God.
I’ve done nothing good in this life.
Take me out of it, but leave her be.
Every twenty yards they’d pass an opening to a small room beyond, and the men would check it out. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Then in the fourth room, bingo.
“Ellie!”
Mac ran to her side. She wasn’t moving. Was she breathing? Did she have a pulse?
He held his fingers beneath her jaw, the steady thump of her heart the best thing he’d felt in his entire life.
The sudden burst of gunfire had him bending over to protect his wife and twisting to return fire. Turner stood half in the doorway, a handgun in his grip. Shots rang out in tandem, the painful sting of a bullet hitting Mac’s Kevlar vest momentarily knocking him back.
“Cover me!” yelled Mac, heading straight for the door. Turner took off running back the way they came with Mac in pursuit, firing at him.
Lewis had better still be in the car.
The thought came unbidden, and with it, a fear unlike any Mac had ever known. He rounded a corner and caught sight of Turner, squeezing off two rounds before the other man disappeared around another corner. They were nearing the entrance to the building, Mac’s anxiety ramping up with every step. He rounded the final corner, his finger nearly pulling the trigger before his brain could register the sight.
There, at the end of the corridor, was Turner. He was using Lewis as a human shield, and holding a gun to his head.
Mac came up short, his gun trained on the pair, and his brain on fire with terror. This was his boy, his baby, everything that was good in the world.
Lewis struggled against Turner’s hold.
“Come any closer and I’ll shoot,” said Turner.
Mac kept his voice as calm as possible. “The police are on their way. They know we’re here. We called them as soon as we arrived.”
“You’re lying.”
