Page 68 of Kept

“I’ll check the feeds,” Jack offers without having to be told. “Fuck! He’s at the other hotel.”

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Yes. The bastard just waved at the fucking surveillance camera.” He pauses. “Sir, he has her. She’s alive.”

I pound my fist on the steering wheel, while flipping an impressively aggressive U-turn. “Where are they?”

“Penthouse, west tower, 53rd floor. Two guards in the foyer, no more that I can see. Stairs and elevator.”

“I’m going there now.”

Marco yells, “No, it’s a trap!”

Somehow, at this exact moment, I feel completely calm. “I know.”

“I’ll meet you one block west,” says Alessandro.

“Brother, on this one, I don’t need a priest, I need a demon.”

“Vincent, the devil was the highest angel once upon a time. Let’s go get your girl.”

“I’ll be at the corner in another twenty minutes. I’ve got one more call to make.”

I dial Special Agent Martinez.

“Well, that was—” he starts, but I cut him off.

“I’m cashing in that favor right goddamned now.”

“Go ahead.”

“There was a kidnapping. We’re getting her back right fucking now.” I give him the intersection to rendezvous at.

“Fifteen minutes,” he answers.

I end the call.

I’ll always save you, kitten. Hang on.

CHAPTER 37

Vincent

After a brief strategy meeting and reallocation of weapons and other supplies, we enter the building.

Martinez is coming up the stairs with a semiautomatic rifle. Alessandro has my Glock and silencer and has donned a Kevlar vest under his shirt, complete with his clerical collar. I’m carrying Martinez’s service pistol.

Alessandro and I ride the elevator. He stands in plain view, and I duck to the side, concealed by the control panel. I see him make the sign of the cross as we approach the floor. Then he looks at me and shrugs. “Can’t hurt.”

The door dings. My brother steps out, cool as can be, the gun concealed behind his back. If the two men in the lobby were expecting trouble, it wasn’t going to be in the form of a priest. In seconds, both men are dead.

I slip inside the penthouse, clearing left and right. Alessandro remains outside to cover the entrance until Martinez arrives.

“Hello, Vincent,” Rizutto says. His deep voice is cold and detached. He’s holding Sarah on the patio, furthest from the door.

With a gun to her head.

And her hands bound in tape.