Page 153 of Wicked and Claimed

Sweating and frantic, he reached the top floor and crept from the stairwell. His heart nearly stopped. The doorframe was splintered, shards scattered across the floor like broken bones. Inside, signs of struggle were evident in the overturned furniture, the shattered lamp, the curtains yanked from their rod now hanging precariously.

His gaze zipped to the open drawer where he’d hidden the GLOCK. Empty. Pride warred with soul-deep terror. Good girl. She’d taken the weapon. Two spent nine-millimeter shell casings near the connecting door confirmed that she’d fought back. His tactical mind catalogued the scene—signs of a firefight, but no body. No major blood loss. She’d survived, thank god.

But where the hell was she now? And how had these bastards threatened her to force her to pull the trigger?

The sat phone in his pocket buzzed. He ripped the device from his pocket. Karliah. “Where is she?”

“The doctor has her. I took down three of the four guards, but three more were waiting in the hall. I eliminated one of them but?—”

“Location?”

“Main floor. Medical wing. I’m en route.”

He was already moving. “On my way.”

Please, please don’t let me be too late.

“Hurry!”

As quickly as he’d charged upstairs, he hurtled back down, his superior training allowing him to punch, pistol-whip, or headbutt every guard who got in his way with brutal efficiency.

On the main floor, panicked guests scattered in every direction. He blended in, slipping past the overwhelmed guards.

In the medical wing—a sprawling T-shaped space—shadows danced in the emergency lights, bouncing off thick concrete walls. The main treatment room intersected with a longer hallway connecting to labor and delivery. He’d memorized the layout his first day here, knowing it might become crucial. Now that knowledge might save Haisley’s life.

The sound of female voices behind a blue metal door brought him to a screeching halt.

“Damn the guards for leaving me as soon as we got here,” Dr. Haynes griped. “Why didn’t they take your gun? Give it to me, bitch!”

“No.” Haisley’s voice shook but held firm. “Get that syringe away from me!”

Shuffling, followed by a scuffle. Feminine grunts. Chairs scraping against linoleum. Then a crash that sounded like someone shoving a medical cart that collided with a wall.

Veins filled with icy terror, Nash yanked on the door.

Locked.

The keypad wouldn’t be simple to breach. He didn’t dare risk shooting it for fear of hitting Haisley. Fuck, he needed to clear his head, to think. Normally, he’d be cool and tactical…but this was the woman he loved—and their baby. Fear choked him, clouding his thoughts.

“Get away from me!” Haisley insisted.

“You better give me the fucking gun, or Black Velvet will kill you.”

“I won’t. I’m not giving up.”

More commotion followed. Nash’s fingers whitened on his weapon as he heard the high-pitched desperation in her voice.

Nothing was more lethal than someone with nothing left to lose.

“How can you help these monsters ruin innocent women’s lives?” Haisley demanded. “How do you live with yourself?”

“Don’t you dare judge me! I was taken three years ago and told I could either work for them or be sold to the highest bidder. What would you have chosen?” Dr. Haynes’s voice broke. “Now cooperate and let me administer this sedative. It won’t hurt you or the baby.”

“And once I pass out, then what?”

“That’s up to Black Velvet. But if I don’t do this, they’ll kill me.”

“What makes you think I won’t?” Haisley challenged.

---