Thorton might know she was missing by now so no matter how much she hurt, she had no choice but to run. Each time her feet hit the pavement, pain ripped through her sole and ankle.

“Hey! Stop!” A male voice sounded behind her, but she didn’t listen. Didn’t dare slow down or even look back. Every second counted.

Her legs and lungs burned as she sprinted toward another street and with every strike of her right foot on the pavement it felt like she was stomping on glass. A few homeless people loitered by a rusty shopping cart but when they saw her, they looked the other way.

Nice.

When she reached the new street, it was empty in both directions. Taking a gamble, she headed south, then took the first left she came to. Risking a glance behind her, she felt a short burst of relief that no one was behind her. But that didn’t mean Thorton wasn’t lurking in the shadows nearby. Breathing was difficult, but adrenaline had taken over.

She’d have maybe thirty seconds to find a place to hide. Or more likely fifteen. In light of the abandoned buildings and empty parking lots full of trash surrounding her, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to hide in any of the dark entrances she spotted. There were probably worse monsters inside some of them. And she was leaving a trail of blood for her pursuer to follow.

When she rounded another corner, Iris stopped dead in her tracks. Barely ten feet in front of her two males who couldn’t be more than nineteen lounged against a bright gold convertible with expensive looking rims. They stopped talking and stared at her.

As her gaze fell lower she realized they both had guns tucked into the front of their jeans. And neither of them looked happy to see her.

If she got close enough she could disarm one of them, but she wasn’t sure she could disarm two. Not when she wasn’t at her complete best.

Had she just escaped one monster only to be faced with another nightmare?

Chapter 15

Zac Thorton hurried to the edge of the last abandoned building on the street. He peered around the corner, but Iris was gone. The woman had moved fast too. He still couldn’t believe she’d escaped. He’d checked on her a few times and she’d been passed out on the mattress. She should still be asleep. He hadn’t wanted to dose her too heavy and risk killing her before he got his money, but he should have. Hell, he should have just left her tied up in the chair, but had wanted to show her a little kindness before she died.

Glancing at his watch, his heart rate tripled. Wyatt would be here in less than ten minutes and he had no hostage. Ideas ran through his head as he tried to get a handle on the situation. He hated being out of control.

He could leave and pretend he’d never been involved in any of this. There was no way Iris had recognized him. He’d been careful of that. And he’d made sure Mark Keibler took the fall for hiring Sato. Killing his partner had been a difficult choice, but a publicly unknown branch of Thorton Enterprises had just developed new technology; a type of small, untraceable explosive. It had worked well, too. He’d put the chip right into Keibler’s cell phone. So even if Keibler was dead, he now had data on the extent of damage one chip could do.

When Zac had taken over the company from his deceased father, he’d learned all about his father’s less-than-reputable dealings. And he’d also taken over his fucking father’s debt. He should have just let the company crumble, but he’d needed to prove to himself and the world that he could turn Thorton Enterprises around even when his father hadn’t been able to. Unfortunately Wyatt Christiansen had kept stealing deals from him. Buying and breaking apart companies he should have gotten. Zac wasn’t sure how he did it, time after time; maybe the man was paying people off, but no one was that lucky.

With Christiansen and Keibler’s history, pinning everything on Keibler had been easy enough. Hell, he’d even managed to set up a blind date between Keibler and Sato without personally becoming involved. If only Christiansen’s wife hadn’t fucked things up.

What the hell was he going to do now?

He turned at a creaking sound behind him. A homeless man pushing a shopping cart was muttering to himself as he strolled down the cracked sidewalk.

They were in one of the worst areas of town, something that would work to his advantage. He doubted Iris would be able to find anyone to help her. It wasn’t like she had a cell phone. And forget about payphones. There weren’t any working ones in the vicinity. He knew because he owned ten square blocks in this abandoned shithole. Well, he’d inherited it. He just hadn’t gotten around to selling the properties. Not in this buyer’s market.

He looked at his watch again. Five minutes to go. Decision made, Zac sprinted back the way he’d come, sticking to the shadows. Once he reached the building he’d kept Christiansen’s wife captive in, he slipped inside through an open window space. Then he texted Christiansen the correct address for the meeting place using a throw-away phone he’d purchased an hour ago. He’d originally given Christiansen the wrong address, but had made sure it was in the same vicinity. Zac hadn’t wanted him trying to assemble a team of his security to infiltrate where he was keeping Iris. Now all he had to do was wait for Christiansen to show up.

Once Zac got the money he deserved, he was the only one leaving the meeting alive.

* * * * *

Wyatt read off the text with the changed address for Vincent and Harrison Caldwell, who were hiding in the back of his SUV. They’d all known the original address he’d been given wasn’t the meeting place. Iris’s kidnapper wouldn’t have given them two hours to get there. Still, Harrison had sent someone to scout it out and sure enough, the abandoned building had been empty of all life.

At first Wyatt had been surprised that Caldwell had decided to come on this job personally, but he’d have done the same thing in Harrison’s position. Iris was one of his people.

Right now she was the only thing that mattered to Wyatt.

“I’m letting the other team know to stay back and move in when we give the go-ahead.” Vincent’s voice was muffled from where he and Harrison lay covered two seats behind him.

Wyatt knew this was a trap. It had to be. That was why he wasn’t going in alone and why Harrison had insisted on another security team to back them up. Four other men were in an SUV a few blocks behind them. They would remain at a static location until Harrison gave them the signal to move in.

Since they hadn’t been able to get any good video feed with Iris’s kidnapper’s face at the hospital, they still weren’t sure who they were after. And her captor hadn’t been lying. He’d disposed of her phone immediately, making it impossible to trace him without knowing who he was first. Zac Thorton was their biggest suspect so one of Red Stone’s analysts had tracked his phone, but it had been traced to his penthouse suite in downtown Miami. That didn’t mean he wasn’t behind this, but at this point, it could be anyone. Wyatt didn’t give a shit who it was, he just wanted Iris safe and in his arms.

As he steered down the street with no street lights and abandoned apartment buildings, it was like pulling onto the set of a horror movie. Everything was spray painted and windows were either missing or boarded up. This wasn’t like the Miami he’d seen so far. Even in the daylight he imagined this place was a desolate hole. “I’m pulling down the street. If the GPS is right, we’ve got exactly half a mile to go.”

“Slow down,” Harrison ordered.

He was only going ten miles an hour, but he slowed to just under five. There was a soft clicking sound as the back hatch opened, but it closed so quickly he couldn’t believe they’d both managed to exit. “Guys?”

No answer.

Okay, then, it was just him now. Depending on others for backup was hard to do when Iris’s life was on the line. But he had no choice. Now…fuck, he just had to pray Harrison and Vincent managed to infiltrate the building and take out Iris’s captor before the guy killed him or Iris.

As Wyatt pulled up to the address he’d been given, his phone buzzed again. Another text. Get out, open all the doors to your SUV then walk through the front door. Bring the money. Leave phone behind, no electronics on you or the bitch is dead.

Then Wyatt received another text with a picture of Iris laying on a mattress, clothed and sleeping. The picture didn’t mean anything though, it could have been taken earlier. He wanted to demand proof of life and if he didn’t have Red Stone backing him, he would have. As it was, he just wanted to get this guy into the open so someone could take him out and he could save his wife.

Grabbing his briefcase, he dropped the phone into the center console, then did as the text ordered. He opened all the doors—to show he was alone—then headed up the cracked stone steps leading to the derelict structure.

The man holding Iris could decide to just put a bullet through his head, but Wyatt doubted he’d do that outright. It was a calculated risk, but one he was willing to take for his wife. The man had asked for a ransom for a reason. He wanted this money and he wouldn’t take the chance that Wyatt showed up empty-handed.

“I’m going in,” he murmured, barely moving his lips. The guy might have told him to leave his cell phone behind, but he wore an earpiece provided to him by Red Stone.

As he reached what had once been a glass door, but was now just an open space with jagged glass edges around the frame, Vincent’s words stopped him cold. “Get out, Iris isn’t in there.”

Relief slammed into him, but he couldn’t believe it. “Repeat,” he murmured.

“The team just picked her up a couple blocks over. She escaped and a fucking drug dealer actually let her use his phone to call for help. She’s unharmed and says Zac Thorton took her. Harrison and I are moving in from the back. Get out of here now, we’ll take this guy down.”

Iris was safe. That was all he needed to know. Now he could face off with that coward Thorton with nothing hanging over his head. The man had come after his wife, his only family, and made this very personal. With his Force Recon and weapons training, he knew he could take Thorton on. The guy was clearly smart, but he was just a fucking suit and he’d messed with the wrong guy. There was no way Wyatt was willing to risk this vendetta or whatever it was dragging on longer than tonight. He had to protect Iris. It was his right and he wouldn’t let anything stand in his way. “Negative. I’m going in.” But he wasn’t going in the front door.