What Are You Afraid Of?

  Matthew sucked in a sharp breath, still clearly freaked out. “God, do you think he’s going to hurt Carrie?”

  Griff muttered a curse. Was Matthew truly that stupid? Hard to believe.

  “That’s exactly what he’s going to do if you don’t help me,” he snapped.

  Matthew grimaced, struggling to regain command of his composure. He continued to tremble, on the verge of a full-out panic attack, but eventually he managed to meet Griff ’s fierce gaze.

  “What do you want?”

  “Is there a back way to get into that part of the warehouse?” Griff demanded.

  Matthew furrowed his brow. “I don’t know.”

  Griff raised the gun he still clutched in his hand. “Be careful how you answer.”

  “Christ, man.” Matthew lifted a hand, taking a hasty step backward. “My family owns this place, I didn’t build the damn thing.”

  Griff rolled his eyes, turning away from the younger man.

  “Worthless,” he muttered, heading toward the desk.

  He pulled out the rolling chair and sat down. Then, laying the gun on the desk, he fired up the computer. Matthew was clearly going to be zero help. Whether by design, or just because he was a shallow, vain piece of fluff.

  Matthew watched him with a frown, possessing enough intelligence not to approach the desk. One wrong move and Griff was ready and willing to put a bullet in him.

  “What are you doing?” Matthew demanded.

  Griff easily found what he was looking for, and after hacking his way into the program, he soon had gained control of the security system.

  “We need a distraction,” he said, locating the file he wanted and abruptly shoved himself to his feet.

  Matthew was staring at him in confusion. “Are you going to set off the alarm?”

  “Something better.” Griff grabbed his gun and waved it toward his companion. “Come here.”

  Matthew stiffened. “Why.”

  “I want you to stay in the office,” he said, pointing toward the chair.

  “Thank God.” Matthew breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to take a seat. Coward.

  Griff leaned over the man’s shoulder and pointed toward the return button on the keyboard.

  “In two minutes I want you to press this,” he commanded.

  “Why?”

  “It will start an override of the sprinkler system,” Griff explained.

  “You’re going to set off the sprinklers?”

  “No, you’re going to,” Griff informed the younger man. “In exactly two minutes. Give me your phone.”

  Predictably, Matthew blinked at him with bewilderment. Griff wondered if Vi Jacobs had dropped her oldest son on his head when he was young. That would explain a lot.

  “My phone.”

  “Just let me have it,” he growled, snatching the phone out of Matthew’s hand as soon as the man had pulled it from his pocket. Then, setting the timer for two minutes, he placed the phone on the desk. “When the timer stops, hit the button.” He once again pointed toward the return key. He was fairly sure that Matthew had already forgotten what he’d told him just seconds ago. “Got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it,” Matthew promised.

  Griff pointed his gun directly in the younger man’s face. “Screw me over and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

  Surprisingly, Matthew didn’t cringe in fear. Instead, he sent Griff an angry glare.

  “Just go save Carrie,” he said.

  With no choice but to hope Matthew was capable of performing the simple task—oh, and wasn’t plotting to stab Griff in the back—he turned to leave the office.

  He scurried along the nearest line of shelves and darted toward one of the forklifts that was parked in the bay. He wanted to be as close as possible when the sprinklers went off.

  Peering around the back of the heavy equipment, his gut twisted as he watched Ronnie point a gun directly into the face of a cringing Carmen.

  Time was running out.

  He glanced up, impatiently waiting for the sprinklers to kick on. Nothing. Seconds ticked past. Then minutes.

  Still nothing.

  “Shit,” he breathed.

  Matthew had either bolted as soon as Griff had left him alone in the office, or he was involved with Ronnie.

  Right now it didn’t matter. He was going to have to take a calculated risk before it was too late.

  Casting a frantic glance around, he caught sight of a large wrench that was lying on the cement floor. He bent down, grabbing the tool, which was made of solid steel. Perfect.

  He turned to the side and threw the wrench with all his might toward the nearby rack of fencing posts. As he hoped, it hit a stack of wood on the top with enough force to send several posts crashing to the floor. The sound was deafening as it echoed through the warehouse.

  It was a trick that’d been used a thousand times in cheesy films, but sometimes the oldies were goodies.

  On cue, Ronnie whirled toward the noise, and Griff stepped around the back of the forklift, his gun pointed directly at the man’s head.

  “Turn around and drop your gun,” he commanded.

  Ronnie jerked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Griff.

  “You,” he spat out, his features twisting with fury. “I should have killed you.”

  “You could try.” Griff stepped to the side, moving so he could keep his gun pointed at Ronnie but with his back next to the wall.

  He grimaced as Ronnie pointed his gun directly at Carmen instead of dropping it.

  “Oh, I’m going to do more than try,” he taunted. “First you drop your gun.”

  Griff ground his teeth. Did he take a risk and shoot Ronnie with the hope that the maniac didn’t squeeze off a shot and hit Carmen?

  Or did he put down his gun and pray that he could somehow overpower Ronnie?

  It was Carmen who made the decision. Catching both men off guard, she was abruptly hurtling toward Griff at full speed. His heart stopped as the sound of Ronnie’s gun blasted through the air, but he managed not to panic. Instead, he reached out to wrap an arm around her waist as soon as she got close enough. Then, using the power he’d developed after years of morning jogs, he leaped to the side, taking Carmen with him.

  They landed in a tangle behind the forklift, with Carmen beneath him. Griff risked a quick glance down. Anger instantly thundered through his body.

  Her face was already showing deep bruises where Ronnie had hit her, and blood dripped from the cut on her swollen lip. He cursed, his finger tightened on the trigger. He wanted to leap to his feet and start shooting. He wanted Ronnie to be sprawled dead on the floor.

  But he possessed an aversion to impulsive actions.

  Plus, he still didn’t know if Matthew was a traitor and was about to leap out of the darkness.

  For now, they were safe behind the forklift. There was nothing but a cement floor beneath them and a thick steel wall behind them. The only way to get to them was around the front of the tractor.

  Unfortunately, that meant they didn’t have an easy way to escape. For now, they were trapped.

  “Are you okay?”

  “No.” She managed a pained smile. “But I will be.”

  Despite the danger and the blood that continued to leak from her wounded lip, Griff felt a small flare of relief. She’d been terrorized and beaten by the madman, but her courage hadn’t been broken.

  “Come out,” Ronnie called, his voice thick with frustration.

  Griff grimaced, brushing a light kiss over Carmen’s forehead before he pushed himself to his knees and inched his way to the edge of the large tire. The forklift sat low to the ground, so he didn’t have to worry about a stray bullet ricocheting off the floor and striking him.

  “I don’t think so.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He dialed Rylan’s number and set the phone on the ground. It wasn’t that he hoped his friend could help. Even with his foot heavy on the g
as pedal Rylan was probably still a half hour away. But whatever happened, he wanted to make sure his friend heard exactly what was going on.

  Ronnie made a sound of impatience. “How did you find us?”

  Griff didn’t miss the word us. Was the man talking about Matthew? Or was there someone else in the warehouse? Maybe more than one?

  “Does it matter?” he demanded, peeking around the tire to discover Ronnie had taken cover behind a stack of cinderblocks.

  “I like to learn from my mistakes,” Ronnie called out, his shadow a thin strip of black across a nearby shelf. “It’s what makes me such a fine hunter.”

  Griff frowned. “Hunter?”

  Carmen was suddenly crouched beside him. “He killed my parents,” she rasped. “And all those women.”

  Griff kept his gaze locked on Ronnie’s shadow as it inched to the side of the blocks. He was angling for a clear shot.

  “Tell me how you found me,” Ronnie commanded.

  Griff hesitated. He needed to provoke the man into making a mistake.

  “It was easy,” Griff finally said. He didn’t know much about Ronnie, but it was apparent that he was consumed with his delusion of grandeur. Which meant the easiest way to rattle him was to prick his bloated pride. “I followed the stench of your cowardice.”

  The words easily pierced Ronnie’s thin skin. “I’m no coward.”

  Griff made a sound of disgust. “What do you call kidnapping a sleeping woman?”

  “Or killing the people who took you and your mother into their home?” Carmen called out.

  “They betrayed me. I should have been the one who was treated as the beloved child. Instead, it was you.” Ronnie’s words held an edge of bitterness. “Always you.”

  Carmen trembled. Her courage might have survived, but she’d clearly been through enough. She was reaching her breaking point.

  “Griff, can we just get out of here?”

  Griff shook his head, but he called out loudly, “Sure. Rylan is waiting outside with the cops.”

  “Bullshit,” Ronnie growled. “If there were cops outside I would know.”

  “I warned them not to use sirens and to park in the back,” he tried to bluff.

  “You must think I’m stupid.” He gave a dramatic pause. “No, wait. You believe I’m a coward.”

  Griff swallowed a curse. There had to be a reason Ronnie was acting so cocky. Which meant that any hope of finding out who might be involved was over.

  They needed to get out of there. But how?

  He aimed his pistol and took a shot at the top of the cinderblocks. He couldn’t kill Ronnie, but he wanted to freeze him in place.

  The sound of the bullet hitting the block echoed loudly through the vast space, splinters of cement filling the air.

  “I called you a coward because you are a coward,” Griff called out.

  “Do you know how many people I’ve killed?” Ronnie demanded.

  Carmen shuddered, but Griff refused to react. It was exactly what Ronnie wanted.

  “It’s tacky to boast,” he instead chided.

  “Why? If you have a talent you take pride in it.” Ronnie sounded like a petulant child. “Especially such a rare talent.”

  “Being a nutcase isn’t a talent,” he deliberately taunted. “It’s a perversion.”

  Ronnie laughed. Apparently, he was used to being called crazy. “‘We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.’”

  Griff frowned. The words were familiar. “Alice in Wonderland?” he at last guessed.

  “You know, I’ve spent months anticipating my reunion with you. Brother and sister shouldn’t be parted from each other.”

  Carmen glanced toward Griff with a horrified expression. “I’m not your sister.”

  Ronnie chuckled, pleased he finally had the reaction he was hoping to get.

  “I dreamed night after night about you,” he told her. “I could actually feel my fingers wrapping around your neck while I watched the life draining from your eyes.”

  “You’re sick,” she accused.

  “But now I see that killing you is going to give me just as much satisfaction, maybe more,” Ronnie said.

  Griff could sense Ronnie’s perverted pleasure in taunting Carmen.

  “As I said, you’re welcome to try,” Griff growled, desperate to keep the creep’s attention focused on him.

  Ronnie didn’t answer. Instead, the shadow began to move again. Damn. Within a few minutes Ronnie would be in position to kill both of them.

  Griff briefly considered his options.

  They all sucked.

  They could wait there and hope that Rylan magically showed up before Ronnie got into position to shoot them. Or they could try to make a desperate run for it. If they could reach the towering racks, there was a faint hope they could reach an exit. At least as long as they didn’t run across any of Ronnie’s partners.

  Yeah. Really crappy choices.

  Bending his head, he whispered directly into Carmen’s ear, “When I say ‘go’ I want you to run toward the front of the bay.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “But Ronnie—”

  “I’ll distract him,” he promised.

  She shook her head. “No, Griff. We go together.”

  “Don’t be fools,” Ronnie called out, easily suspecting they were plotting to try to escape. “You don’t really think you can get out of this warehouse, do you?”

  “You can’t stop me,” Griff said, his gaze carefully monitoring Ronnie’s shadow.

  “If I don’t, my partner will,” Ronnie warned.

  Griff reached to give Carmen’s arm a reassuring squeeze, his gaze scanning the opening while he strained his ears for any sound of approaching footsteps.

  “What partner?” he demanded.

  Ronnie released a mocking laugh. “You really are stupid. How do you think I found out about this warehouse? Or managed to get past the security?”

  “Shit,” Griff breathed. He knew exactly who Ronnie’s partner was. Matthew Jacobs. No wonder the damned sprinkler system hadn’t been triggered. “I knew I couldn’t trust him.”

  Carmen sent him a worried gaze. “Trust who?”

  “Get ready,” he muttered, reaching toward the cab of the forklift. Blindly he searched for the key switch on the steering wheel column.

  “You might as well give up,” Ronnie said, his voice sharp with impatience. “You can’t get out of the warehouse. The doors have been locked down. They won’t open until the security system has been reset.”

  Griff ignored the warning. He’d worry about getting out of the warehouse once they were away from Ronnie.

  On the point of telling Carmen to run, Griff froze at the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps. He leaned forward again, peering around the rim of the wheel.

  If Matthew moved to stand in the proximity of Ronnie, then his hasty plan might still work. If not . . . they were screwed.

  “Enough.” The voice cut through the air as the man walked around the edge of a rack and stepped into view. “I’m done playing games,” he warned.

  Shock jolted through Griff. He blinked, wondering if he was seeing things. Then he blinked again.

  Once again he’d been wrong.

  Ronnie’s partner wasn’t Matthew Jacobs.

  It was the younger brother, Baylor.

  “Baylor,” Carmen breathed as she pressed next to him, her hand rising to press against her parted lips.

  The young man was dressed in a pair of charcoal slacks and a white shirt. Like he was headed to the office instead of helping a psychotic killer murder his own cousin.

  With an effort, Griff shook off his sense of disbelief. Right now it didn’t matter if Ronnie’s partner was Santa Claus. They needed to escape.

  And the only way that was going to happen was if they could cause a large enough distraction.

  “Stay next to me,” he breathed, switching on the engine to the forklift and with his other hand, pressing down on the gas pedal to
send the large tractor rumbling forward.

  He heard a shout from Ronnie, and the sound of gunfire, but he and Carmen remained bent low as they jogged next to the forklift. He kept the tires straight, forcing the men to back away. Then at the last minute he grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it sharply to the right. The tractor turned with surprising dexterity, the metal fork slamming into the nearby rack.

  The industrial shelving was solidly bolted to the floor, but Griff had factored in the haphazard manner in which the wood was stacked. It was top-heavy enough that such a solid hit sent the ten-foot boards flying through the air.

  The wooden projectiles pelted anything in their path, forcing Ronnie and Baylor to dive for cover, just as he’d hoped.

  “Run,” he barked.

  Without hesitation, Carmen was bolting through the opening of the bay and toward a narrow aisle just ahead. Keeping low, she scrambled through the maze of racks with a speed that came from sheer adrenaline. Griff was just a few feet behind her, his gun held ready.

  Moving as silently as possible, considering their rasping breaths and the cement floor that amplified every footstep, they reached the middle of the warehouse. Griff grabbed Carmen’s arm to halt her flight. Then, with a jerk of his head, he indicated that they needed to circle back the way they’d just come.

  She frowned, but with a trust that warmed his heart, she followed him as he cautiously threaded his way toward the front of the warehouse.

  He didn’t dare try to make a mad dash toward an exit. Although it appeared that Matthew was an innocent stooge of his brother, he’d been fooled too many times. He wasn’t going to risk stumbling into another trap.

  They were inching forward when the sound of Ronnie’s and Baylor’s raised voices forced him to freeze. The two men were just an aisle over. Which meant there was no way he could get to a doorway until they moved.

  Muttering every curse he knew, in more than one language, Griff tugged Carmen behind a cart of plywood. It was possible they could fit beneath one of the racks, which might be a better hiding place. But he didn’t want to get trapped. If worse came to worst, he wanted Carmen to be able to run while he tried to hold off the men.

  Another awful plan.

  But the only one he had.

  Chapter Twenty-Five