Black dots swam across her vision, nausea roiling her stomach. She lifted her knee, but he knocked it away, laughing as he shifted one hand to her neck.
“I’m gonna love finally finishing what I started. The only downside is that I’m gonna have to make this quick before the rest of your team gets here. Though, I think they’ll be too damaged, by then.”
His fingers closed around her throat, cutting off all but a sliver of air as he fumbled with his belt. Reliving that night — the same pressure. The same scent of sweat and arrogance wafting over her. How she’d sworn she’d die before she gave in.
The thought cut through the blurriness, all those noises in the background spurring her on.
She grabbed his wrist, dug her nails into his skin. “You should have killed me when you had the chance.”
She slammed her head against his, then dropped her weight, the sudden shift breaking his grip. He fumbled to catch her, opening himself up to a direct hit. Two quick hooks to his ribs and a boot to his groin had him doubling over. A sharp elbow to his jaw and a knee to his head, and she slipped free. Managed to stumble a few steps before the bow tipped up, slammed her back into the bulkhead before she sprawled onto the metal floor as the vessel fell off the other side of the wave, sending anything not tied down flying across the room.
She scrambled back to her feet, reeling backwards when someone else yanked on her jacket only to vanish amidst more grunts and scuffs. Shots rang out from above, what she guessed was Chase and Greer engaging more men. The entire op going seriously sideways. Not that she had time to worry when Keith lunged at her, missing as she dodged left — caught him with a strong left cross as he flew by.
He braced himself against one of the instrument panels, wiping the blood off his mouth. “I’m going to enjoy fucking the will right out of you.”
Saylor readied her stance. “Then, you should have drugged me, again, because that’s the only way that’ll ever happen.”
Keith grunted, then attacked, swinging his fists. She blocked what she couldn’t evade, landing a few key strikes — knocking him back to that same panel.
He glared at her. “On second thought, you’re not worth the effort.”
He drew. What looked like a damn forty-five. Way more firepower than he needed. The barrel pointed ather chest. The kind of pointblank shot that could shred her vest, or at the least, break some ribs. Maybe cause some internal bleeding.
Until he arched forward, two sharp pops ringing through the air. Rattling her head, again, just like the flash bang. Blood dribbled from Keith’s mouth before he collapsed, hitting the floor with a loud thud, his massive gun firing off a round on impact. It ricocheted off the panel next to her hip, punching a hole in one of the tubes. She jumped, all the while working through how to retrieve his weapon, defend herself, when Zain grabbed her shoulders — pulled her against him.
He shook his head, easing away as he gave her a quick sweeping glance. “Shit, are you okay?”
She blinked, the lingering effects of the grenade and the fight still scattering her thoughts, before the last of the fuzziness lifted. “Am I okay? Are you?”
Blood dripped from a wound on his cheek, what looked like a knife slice across one arm.
Zain waved it off. “I’m fine. I should have realized…”
A tone. Just like on theVigilant. Vibrating through the hull, shaking her skull until she thought her head would explode. She blinked, and they were on their knees, everything sliding left and right. Pain strumming through her temples with each successive pulse. Zain fumbled with the wax earplugs they’d brought, ripping at the package when something stirred the lingering smoke near the entrance.
He shoved her aside, then stumbled to his feet as he lifted his Sig, arms shaking, the barrel jumping all over the place, when two more shots rang out, louder thanbefore. Deeper. Zain flew back, crashed into the far wall, then fell. No twitching. No groaning, just his body hitting the floor, then nothing.
“No!” Saylor scrambled toward him, heart thrashing in her chest, thoughts still scattered, when another pulse dropped her on the spot. Stronger. Richer. Like more of a chord than a single note. It moved through her, gnawing at her consciousness until someone tsked from the doorway, the eerily familiar sound clawing through the unyielding pressure. She managed to grab Watson’s gun as she pushed onto her knees, finally finding her feet as footsteps tapped the metal floor, a ghostly face appearing out of the swirling smoke.
He stopped a few feet inside, gun aimed at her head. Disappointment lining his brow. “I really wish you hadn’t come here, Saylor. This isn’t how I wanted things to end.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
That voice.
That face.
It was all she needed to break that damaged barrier — crumble the walls holding her fractured mind in place. The memories didn’t slam into her, this time, just settled into the empty spaces as if they’d always been there.
The tone pulsed, again, as Saylor glanced at Zain, blinking in an effort to stabilize the scenery. No blood pool, no obvious gaping wounds, which she hoped meant his vest had held. Still, he could be bleeding internally or have a massive tension pneumothorax from the impact. Multiple broken bones.
And all because of the man standing in front of her.
Pain burned into anger, and she stumbled a few steps over, blocking any further shots at Zain as she faced her past, the gun like a dead weight in her hand. “Maddox.”
Rear Admiral Brad Maddox arched a brow. “I’d say it’s good to see you, but we both know that would be alie.” He motioned to the weapon. “Not that you’d be able to fire it, but…”
Saylor let the gun slip out of her hand, and it clattered to the floor without another accidental discharge. What could have been the Hail Mary they needed. “It was you. All this time…”
