Kathleen Brooks - Secrets Collide

“Sergei. Take care of him.”

“No.” Gemma fought against the man’s grip. She twisted, kicked, and screamed against the hand that muffled her, but she couldn't stop this fight to the death. She kicked out once more, and screamed when the hand was removed from her mouth. But this time her scream was cut short as a cold metal object was pressed against her neck. Electricity from the stun gun stopped her fighting instantly. Her body cramped and her legs gave out as he caught her and started dragging her deeper into the woods.

Cy heard Gemma squeak and then drop to the ground. Sergei took advantage of the distraction and landed a solid punch to Cy’s face. His head snapped back and he lost the advantage in a split second.

Ducking another punch, Cy leaped forward and tackled Sergei to the ground. There was no sound except the breaking of tiny branches and the occasional grunt as they rolled on the grass grappling for position. Cy managed to pin Sergei’s arm, but Sergei raised his legs and clamped them around Cy’s neck. Cy’s fingers slipped from the hold he had on Sergei and Sergei tossed him to the ground. Before Cy could catch his breath, Sergei had him in a chokehold.

“I’ll enjoy killing your girlfriend, but I won’t be so kind. I’m going to take my time,” Sergei hissed.

Cy felt his world darkening. He knew he couldn’t break the hold and that left only one choice left if he wanted to save Gemma. He dug out his cell phone and pressed Speed Dial.

Miles had his arms around his wife and enjoyed feeling her tiny belly growing. Her small bump pressed against his stomach as he danced with her. “Did the baby kick?” he asked, jumping back.

Morgan giggled. “No. That’s your cell phone. The baby will kick but not for about eight more weeks.”

With great reluctance, Miles pulled out his phone and looked with confusion at his brother’s number. “It’s Cy.” He answered the phone and listened to sounds he knew too well. “And he’s in trouble.”

“What?” Morgan asked, but he was already running.

“Where’s Cy?” Miles shouted to the crowd.

“He went into the woods with Gemma,” Miss Violet told him as she wiggled her eyebrows. “Behind the punch bowl.”

“Miles?” Marshall called out, but Miles didn’t stop to answer him. He knew his brothers would follow. He had heard the unmistakable sound of fighting and then the collapse of a body, followed by footsteps.

Miles ran through the woods, following the small trail Cy and Gemma had taken. He burst into the small clearing and found Cy on his stomach. Evidence of a fight was all around and Gemma was missing. He put the pieces together before he even got to Cy. As he rolled him over and felt for a pulse, he heard his brothers crashing through the woods. There was still a faint pulse as Miles started CPR.

Cy felt life flood back into him. The world had gone dark and he was sure he was dead except for the fact that he refused to leave Gemma. He felt as if he were struggling between life and death until that rush of air entered his lungs. He opened his eyes and saw Miles and Marshall over him with relief on their faces.

“Gemma,” he choked out.

“We know. I can follow the trail, but I think we all know where it leads. It was Sergei, wasn’t it?” Ahmed asked from the spot Cy had last seen Gemma as she was dragged away.

“And the boss. I still couldn’t get a name. But they have her. They have Gemma and he’s crazy. He kept calling her Gia.” Cy struggled to stand up as his brothers helped him to his feet.

“Come on. Let’s get you some water and we’ll develop a plan. We’ll get her back.” Miles led his brothers from the woods and right into the heart of a very worried town.

Gemma felt the plastic ties cutting into her wrists as she struggled against them. She sat in the back of the limousine with a gag in her mouth and the plastic zip-ties holding her hands and feet behind her back.

“Stop struggling, Gia. It won’t be over for some time. I’m going to let Sergei have his way with you this time. Last time I told him to kill you quickly, but that obviously didn’t work. You went to my daughter again. You’re getting bolder and so must I. Sergei will take his time torturing you so you'll spill every secret you've learned about my organization. You’ll be made an example.”

Gemma cringed at the almost gleeful look of anticipation on his face. The only thing stopping her from utter panic was the anger she felt. She didn’t know if Cy was alive or not. Sergei came back, which couldn’t be good. This man killed her sister and may have killed the man she loved. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of freaking out. Instead she turned her body so he could see her hands and held up both middle fingers before calmly turning back around in her seat. When the look of excitement died from his eyes, replaced with shock and then hatred, Gemma felt strangely triumphant. She wasn’t going down easy. She was ready for the fight to come.

* * *

Neely Grace and Henry sat discussing what they had found with Cy, as the town discussed the current situation. “I'm waiting for one last name from a court in India, but they’re not giving it to me,” Henry told him.

“Give me your phone.” Neely Grace held out her hand and waited for Henry to put the phone in it.

She scrolled through the numbers and hit the one for the court in India. She waited for the phone to be answered and introduced herself. Cy shook his head. The waiting was killing him. He wanted to barge in right then and kill them. He knew they could be hurting her right now, but his brothers had been right. They needed a plan.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if the judge is eating lunch.” Neely’s normally calm voice rose. “You go in there right now and get him on the phone or I’ll send the embassy down on you so fast you’ll wish you were never born.” Neely Grace paused and then smiled. “Why, thank you so much for your help. Yes. I’ll hold,” she said with her best southern charm.

“She’s so hot,” Henry said with a grin.

“Cy, can I have a word?” Cole asked.

“Sure, you have a plan? Is the FBI on their way?”

“That’s what this is about. I got a call from internal affairs. I had them run an audit on all the financials of my agents. I got a ping. One of my guys just cashed a very large check from a company connected to the one Henry and Neely Grace are investigating. My office is dirty and I need to clean house. I don’t know who to trust enough to call them in. I thought this one guy was clean. They’re digging deeper and fear there may be more.”

Cy ran his hand through his hair. This was not good. “I can call in the DEA’s office, but it may be the same. What do you want me to do?” Annie asked.

“Cy, I got it. I got a name,” Neely Grace called from where she had stalked off to talk to the judge. The wedding reception quieted down as she hurried toward him. “Liam O’Flannigan.”

“Got him,” Cade said as he punched away on his Smartphone. “He was born in New Jersey and attended public school until he was suddenly admitted to the top private school in the state. When he was sixteen, he dropped out of school. Then reappeared at an Ivy League college where he earned a business degree and an art history degree. It says he owns an art studio in New York City now. No mention of a family with the exception of a mother—Eloise O’Flannigan, who died of a drug overdose when he was just sixteen.”

“Wait. That name sounds familiar,” Marcy Davies said as she snapped her fingers. “She was the Mistress of Politics. It was never proven and the news didn’t make a big deal of it. They discounted it for gossip, if I recall. But when I was a young girl in college, I liked to read those gossip rags. Anyway, there was an article about a woman who had been a mistress to some of the most powerful men in politics. It was rumored she was even the mistress of the vice president.”