Page 66 of Jacqueline's Quest

"You've got a point." Murray stepped out of the crumbling shell of the club with the remainder of their team along with Christian and Hannah. "What a fucking night."

And, it wasn’t even close to being over for any of them.

"Get in," Noah hollered as he pulled up in a blacked-out SUV. "I'll get you to the hospital where they're taking Scotty. Seems Rae knows people."

"Guess an in-house doctor has some perks after all," Murray teased getting into the back of the vehicle with Christian, Hannah, and Jaqueline.

“Fucker,” Asher grumbled through the comms. “Everyone present and accounted for?”

“We are,” Noah said when AJ and Thomas got in up front. “We’re following the ambulance now.”

“Good. Report in when you have an update.”

“Roger that,” Noah answered before pulling out his earpiece.

Jaqueline glanced out the window as they drove away from the club. Blood covered her dress and hands. She needed a shower. Needed to get that asshole’s stench off her body. Murray wrapped his arm around her when a shiver ran down her spine at the memory of what she’d done to survive back there.

Staying away had been the hardest part of the mission. Not being able to keep her hands on Christian or Hannah destroyed her as she sat in the room, alone, while everyone fought. Jaqueline understood why Santiago had done it, he meant it as protection, in the long run though, it pissed her off. Worse, when she tried to open the door, it was locked. Every explosion that rocked the building, sent another anxious thread through her. What if, when she was let out, everyone had been killed? What then? How could she live with herself if they sacrificed everything and she did nothing? Jaqueline blew out a breath as she sat on the chaise lounge. She was going to kill Murray when they got out of there. He probably put Santiago up to it. Keep her safe while he protected his sister. But, what about her brother? Who would protect him?

Then the lock turned, and she thought she’d been set free.

No. Instead, One of Raul’s men pushed into the room. He licked his lips as he stared at her. There was a war going on out there and here this guy was, looking as though he’d won the prize for the night. Dread pooled in her stomach.

You’re mine, bitch.His words still echoed through her head as they drove farther away from the club.

The cool kiss of her knife against her thigh had been the only thing keeping her from freaking out and succumbing to the fear in those first moments. Instead, Jaqueline relied on her training to bolster her. She pasted on a smile, leaning back, drawing him in. Close combat was her strength. However, he stayed put. The man pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it at her. Jaqueline closed her eyes. Those few seconds were now a blur to her. She'd been sure he'd kill her outright. He didn't though, he toyed with her. Kept her on edge. It rankled her nerves. Pissed her off and in those scant seconds, it gave her the opening she needed to grab the blade. If he wasn't going to come to her, she'd go to him. She waited for the opening. When he let his guard down, looking away from her when his radio popped, she attacked.

Jaqueline kicked the gun from his hand then crouched into a fighting position. While with the Cuerpo de Fuerzas Especiales, she'd learned different fighting techniques and on her own, she learned some mixed martial arts. The man might have a height and weight advantage on her, but she had the speed and training he didn't. When he snarled and charged at her, she used his weight to throw him off balance, pushing him face-first into the wall.

“Hey...” Murray tipped her chin up. “Are you okay?”

Jaqueline nodded. “Yes.”

“You going to tell me whose blood is all over you?” Concern filled Murray’s gaze.

She shook her head. “Not now. Not here.” She slid her gaze toward her brother.

“I understand. While they’re getting checked out, we’ll talk.” Murray pressed his lips to her temple.

Sure, they’d talk. She closed her eyes and fell back into the memory of what she’d done to get free. The man lashed out, landed a shot to her stomach and she fell to her knees, trying to catch her breath. She wheezed; her lungs paralyzed from the lack of air. Spots danced in front of her eyes as she tried to will herself to take in the oxygen she desperately needed. She groaned on the first inhale and wobbled when she tried to stand.

“Puta.”

She ran the back of her hand across her mouth and chuckled. The dark sound surprised her. With each breath she took she grew stronger. She motioned for the man to step forward and they began again. She knew she should have pulled the knife at the first chance she got, but some deep need to enact some kind of revenge for her brother kept her from pulling it and killing the man she'd currently been knocking around.

With a roundhouse kick, the asshole went down to his knees. Blood poured from his mouth and the cut under his eye. Around her, the room had been thrashed as they fought. The furniture in the room lay in splinters or tipped over, because of their vicious attacks. Her breath came in heavy pants. Her hair fell in tangles around her face and her muscles burned from the exertion. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. She missed this since she retired to take care of Christian.

The building trembled around them with another explosion and she saw her opening. Jaqueline slipped the knife from her holder and palmed it against the side of her forearm. The room rocked again, and the lights went out. The only thing illuminating the space was a small red emergency exit sign. The red light spilled over them. She launched herself at the man who stood a few feet from her and plunged the knife into his chest at the same time he fired his gun.

For a second, she thought she’d been hit. She assessed herself, waiting for the burning, ripping pain of a bullet piercing her flesh. It didn’t come. The man fell to the ground with her on top of him. He coughed. Blood poured from his mouth and the wound. His eyes were wide as he gurgled on his bodily fluids. Jaqueline stumbled backward when he leveled the gun at her again.

His hand trembled.

He swayed, trying to get to his knees. The grunt from the impact of a bullet striking his back sent more spittle flying. His finger was still on the trigger. She’d been struck dumb standing there. She tried to force her legs to move but she couldn’t. Her gaze was locked on her opponent. The gun fell from his hand and in slow motion he slumped forward, driving the knife deeper into his chest. Jaqueline grabbed his gun and headed out the door. Not sure who’d shot him or if she cared at the moment.

She was free.

The noise from the fighting assailed her as she ran down the hall to the main area of the club. The crack of shots being fired halted her forward progression. When they stopped, she continued, ready to jump into the fray of it. However, as she stepped into the main area, silence greeted her. Several bodies littered the area. Gun powder, sulfur and a sundry of other smells permeated the air.

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