Page 56 of Wyoming Cowboy Undercover

“I moved them.” Alex’s voice was low, his gaze unwavering from Mercy. “You won’t find it in time.”

Rocco cocked his fist back, prepared to break the man’s nose. He was willing to go so far as every bone in his body. “Tell us where you put it, or I’ll beat it out of you.”

Alex didn’t cringe, didn’t even flick a glance at him. His fists were tight at his sides, his expression unyielding, his eyes dark and full of a deadly determination.

Impotent rage surged through Rocco. He could hurt this man, beat him into a bloody pulp and it wouldn’t do any good.

Because this rash, bitter coward seemed unconcerned with dying himself—so long as Mercy died first.

There had to be something they could do. Rocco wasn’t going to stand by and let this happen. He could run to the infirmary and see if they had any epinephrine, but as fast as Mercy’s reaction was happening, he wouldn’t make it there and back in time.

Think, think.

The foundation of a cult was power and control. If anyone still had an iota of influence over Alex, it was Empyrean.

Rocco turned to Mercy’s father. “Make him see reason.” He looked back to Alex. “What is it you want?” Rocco pressed him.

Alex nodded at Mercy. “Her. For starters.”

“Youwilllet her live,” Marshall said, his voice ringing with authority. “Give me the EpiPen. You have it, don’t you? Give it to me!” he cried. “If you don’t, so help me, you will walk in darkness, forever banished, your soul lost.”

Alex took a step forward, but Rocco’s tight grip stopped him. “Want me to save her or not?” He knocked Rocco’s hand away, knelt at Mercy’s side, and leaned over her. “Do you remember what I told you in the car?” he asked her. “Blink once for yes if you do.”

Gasping for air, fighting to breathe, Mercy gave one long blink, and more tears streamed down her face.

“You better come back to me,” Alex said.

Mercy’s eyes fluttered closed. Her hands slipped from her throat, and she went limp.

“Hurry up!” Rocco yelled.

Alex tugged up his pant leg and pulled the injector from his sock.

Marshall snatched the shot of epinephrine from his hand, yanked off the blue cap and pressed the orange tip to her thigh. He threw the used injector to the floor and rocked his daughter in his arms.

Coming up alongside her, Rocco gave Alex a fierce look that had him scuttling up and out of the way. Rocco took her hand in his. “How long does it take to work?”

“Any minute. Any minute now.” Marshall looked down at his daughter, his face fraught with panic. “Come on, Mercy. Breathe.Please, open your eyes.”

Rocco bit out a curse under his breath. He couldn’t lose her. Because of some vindictive weasel. They hadn’t even been given a chance.

Mercy sucked in a wheezing breath, opening her eyes. The color returned to her lips and cheeks. She squeezed his hand, her gaze finding his.

Relief pummeled him in a wave. She was going to be okay. She was going to live.

Marshall hugged her tight against his chest. He kissed her forehead and slid Mercy into Rocco’s arms. Her father got up and hurried to his desk. He picked up the phone. “I need security immediately.”

“Empyrean,” Alex said. “I was desperate.”

“I know.” Marshall nodded. “You weren’t yourself. You acted rashly and almost killed her.”

“But I didn’t,” Alex said. “Her life was in my hands, and I chose not to take it.”

Guards ran into the room, led by Shawn.

“Secure Alex in an unburdening room,” Marshall said, “and help Mercy to one of the vehicles.”

Holding her in his arms, Rocco stood. “I’ll carry her.”

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