Page 33 of Dusty
The pain in her eyes nearly broke him, but she gave a small nod.
Dusty took a deep breath, then fired two shots toward the open door, not aiming to hit, just to scatter them. Shouts erupted outside, followed by return fire that splintered the wood around them. Dusty pushed Sharon toward the back door as he fired again, providing cover.
“Go!” he hissed.
He saw her hesitate for just a moment before she crouched low and made for the exit. Relief flooded through him as she slipped through the door, but it was short-lived.
A crashing sound came from the far side of the barn—another entry point he hadn’t seen. Two men burst through, weapons raised. Dusty spun, firing instinctively, catching one in the shoulder. But before he could adjust his aim, white-hot pain exploded in his thigh as a bullet found its mark.
Dusty staggered, firing his last round as he fell back against the hay bales. The barn swam before his eyes, pain radiating up from his leg. He tried to push himself up, to reach for the backupweapon in his ankle holster, but a boot came down hard on his wrist.
“Stay down, hero,” Lennox said, standing over him, gun pointed at Dusty’s chest.
Through the haze of pain, Dusty saw movement at the back door. Sharon. She’d come back. No, he thought desperately. Run.
But it was too late. Two more of Madison’s men appeared, dragging Sharon between them. Blood trickled down her lip, her eyes blazing with fury as she struggled against their grip.
“Look what we found trying to circle around,” one of them said, shoving Sharon forward.
Lennox smiled, the expression never reaching his cold eyes. “Perfect. The boss will be pleased.” He knelt beside Dusty, pressing the barrel of his gun against Dusty’s temple. “Where’s the evidence, Warner?”
Dusty glared up at him, saying nothing.
“Have it your way,” Lennox said, and swung the butt of his gun. Pain exploded across Dusty’s temple, and the world tilted sideways.
Through rapidly fading consciousness, Dusty watched as they dragged Sharon toward the door, her eyes locked on his, filled with terror and regret. He tried to call out, to reach for her, but his body wouldn’t respond.
“I’m sorry, Dusty, so sorry.”
“We’ll find it without your help,” Lennox’s voice seemed to come from far away. “Search the place. Tear it apart if you have to.”
The last thing Dusty saw before darkness claimed him was Sharon being forced out of the barn, the crate with the hidden evidence untouched behind them.
Then nothing.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sharon’s wrists burnedfrom the zip ties cutting into her skin as the jet began its descent into Chicago. The whole trip had been a nightmare, despite the luxury private jet Cooper had sent. It had been hours since Lennox and his goons captured her in the abandoned barn outside San Antonio, where she and Dusty had been stranded after the truck broke down.
The city lights blurred beneath her, a constellation of electric stars marking the place she’d fought so desperately to escape. She shifted on the leather seat, willing herself to think clearly despite the throbbing at her temple where Lennox had struck her. Things had changed from how he’d treated her weeks prior, before she’d discovered all the despicable acts Cooper was capable of. Lennox wouldn’t have dared touch her; being Cooper’s fiancée had come with some privileges, and Cooper protected what he considered his property. She knew now that was how Cooper felt about her—she belonged to him. And he never lost anything he believed was his.
“Enjoying the view?” Lennox lounged across from her, his bulk taking up most of the facing seat. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable. Boss isn’t exactly planning a welcome home party.”
She turned away from him, fixing her gaze out the window. The interior of Cooper’s private jet reflected in the plexiglass, all cream leather and polished wood. Luxury that concealed rot, just like everything else in Madison’s stolen empire.
“He’s been in quite a state since you disappeared with those files,” Lennox continued, his voice carrying an edge of amusement. “Never seen the boss so…unhinged.”
Sharon’s stomach clenched. The files and flash drive hidden beneath the wooden crates in that abandoned barn were her only insurance policy now. Unless Dusty managed to get them to the FBI. If Dusty was still alive.
The image of him crumpling to the ground, blood spreading across his temple where Lennox had struck him, the bullet slamming into his thigh played on repeat in her mind. She’d screamed his name as they dragged her away, but he hadn’t stirred. Not even a twitch.
Please be alive. Please don’t leave me…I need you.
The jet touched down with a gentle bump, but nothing else about this homecoming was gentle. Chicago had once been her home, the city where she’d built her career at Kerrigan Enterprises, rising to become its most talented financial analyst, even though Cooper had never allowed her to continue in that position. Instead, he’d made her take the position of his executive administrative assistant. Kerrigan had seemed like a second home. Now she doubted she’d be allowed through its exalted halls, unless it was for the scene of her execution.
“You know,” Lennox said casually as the engines wound down, “I’m surprised you ran with the evidence instead of going straight to the Feds. Not very smart.”
Sharon met his gaze, a flash of defiance breaking through her fear. “I needed to understand exactly what I had first. Insurance.” She allowed a smirk to grow on her lips. “I’ve got everything I need to bring down Cooper, and I’ll take you and the rest of your crew with you.”
