Chapter 23

TWENTY-THREE

In a fraction of a second, Bash's world slowed down. Bash could hear the blood rushing through his ears. Could feel it pounding against his eardrums. His heart thumped against his ribcage as if trying to escape, threatening to tear its way out of his chest. Fear for Emma surged through Bash's bloodstream like a plague, and for a moment, he didn't breathe.

The wind whistled past him, deafening him despite being no more than a dull breeze.

His mind reeled from shock. This couldn't be happening, not right in front of him. Their plan had been going so well—too fucking good. Yet, here they were, staring down the barrel of disaster once more.

Bash didn't know which terrified him more, the appearance of Marcus or the thought of Emma being taken from them.

"Emma!" he called out instinctively as if that would do any good.

The high-pitched whine of bullets flying past his ears didn't seem to register. All he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding against his chest wall like a war drum .

The world around him seemed to shrink, everything focusing on Emma as she was pulled away from them. Her curly brown hair billowed behind her like a flag of distress, and her hazel eyes pleaded with them for help. The fear in her eyes tore at Bash's heartstrings like a symphony of despair unfurled over time.

Liam's bullet did register, whizzing past Bash's ear and snapping him back to himself.

Bash's muscles tensed, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he broke into a sprint, barreling past the shocked onlookers. He didn't even bother to call out to Chris, Liam could handle that. His sole focus was on reaching Emma before it was too late.

Marcus and his fucking men had shown up out of nowhere, guns blazing and bravado flying like a punch to the gut. In one swift motion, they had Emma pulled away and secured, her petite frame trembling beneath their rough hands.

Bash gritted his teeth, focusing on the ground beneath him as he leapt over fallen debris and dodged flying bullets that whizzed past his ears. He felt them buzz and whine by so close he could almost taste their hot breath on his neck. The stench of burnt rubber hung thick in the air as smoke clouded their vision and made it hard to see straight ahead. But he kept running—running toward Emma with an intensity that could rival a hurricane-force wind.

In one fluid motion, Bash reached for his sidearm, his fingers curling around the cold steel grip. He didn't hesitate, didn't even think about the lives he'd end to save one. In this desperate, unforgiving world, there was no room for second chances.

Bash plowed forward, his heart pounding in his ears. The air rushed past him, the gritty wind stinging his eyes, but he refused to blink. He wouldn't look away, not now, not when Emma's life was on the line.

The world blurred as he ran, his heart and mind racing faster than his legs could carry him. He heard the roaring wind behind him, the thundering sound of boots stomping closer, and the frantic breaths of his fellow unit members who tried to keep up with him. His lungs burned as if they were on fire, his muscles screaming in protest, but adrenaline pushed him through the pain. Sweat dripped down his back and stung where it met the open wound from a recent knife fight, but he barely noticed. Nothing could distract him from Emma now.

Until something could.

The icy fingers of the past wrapped around his neck, choking him with the memory of another loss. He'd lived this moment already, this twisted nightmare where he had to run and save the moment occupying his heart.

Kathleen's face when he lost her in the crowd held the same look of terror as Emma's. She hadn't been dragged by a single person, but she'd been stolen from him a moment when he hadn't been fast enough. Hadn't been strong enough.

He pushed those thoughts away, fueled by rage and determination. "Get the fuck back," he snarled and saw Liam out of the corner of his eyes. He was out of bullets from the small chase forward, and there were too many guns trained on them.

"No can do. You don't steal from me and get away with it. I was willing to pretend like I deserved the lashing I got for falsely reporting you carried a female, but you better fucking believe I didn't."

This wasn't just a skirmish or an ambush—this was war.

Marcus's eyes narrowed. In that split second, their gazes locked, and Bash saw the madness lurking within. The toxin had warped the man's mind, driving him to unthinkable acts in the name of his twisted cause.

Bash lunged, his hand going for Marcus's ankle, determined to drag him to the ground. The man was as bulky as Bash, and though he grabbed his ankle, he couldn't jerk Marcus down .

The world was a blur of motion, a maelstrom of gunfire and chaos, but he moved through it like a predator on the hunt.

The hail of bullets surrounded him, tearing through air and flesh with equal abandon. It was deafeningly loud in his ears, and it forced him to dodge and weave backward, rolling away from Marcus the same way Liam jumped and tried to cover.

Dirt sprayed up around him, sand hitting his face and stinging his eyes. He couldn't see where he was going, only knowing that he had to find Emma. The smell of gunpowder and blood burned through the air.

Suddenly there came silence except for their heavy breathing mixed among echoes from distant gunshots fading into background noise as if God himself had turned down the volume knob. Bash stood and opened his eyes, and was unable to stop the animalistic scream that tore past his lips.

It had gone silent because the men had left, and they'd taken Emma with them.

The sudden silence was deafening, echoing in his ears as he scanned the area for any sign of Emma. All he saw were the men running away. He didn't hesitate and unloaded his gun, barely looking as he fired into the group of scattering imposters in military uniforms.

Liam's voice cut through the fog in his mind, and Bash turned to see him standing there, eyes wide with panic. "We have to go after them!" Liam yelled, his voice hoarse from the endless screaming and shouting. "We can't just let them take her!" He was in Bash's face. "What the fuck happened? You rushed so I couldn't shoot, and then you just stopped?"

Bash dropped his gun, his fist clenching. "I was thrown off. I couldn't." he swallowed back his fury and guilt. "I couldn't see through the past to the present, and it's my fucking fault!" His voice roared around them and was almost louder than the truck.

"Get the fuck in, both of you." Chris snarled .

"And you! What the fuck took you and the truck so damn long?" Bash moved to the door and threw himself intoChris's space.

"Bash, get the fuck in. We're wasting time."

There was no time. She was gone. "Where the fuck were you? That asshole has been trailing us for days, and we never noticed? We fucking led him to us, and it was our rescue mission that pissed him off enough to come get her!" Spittle flew from his lips, and he wanted to punch something. Anything to calm the rage controlling him.

"We ran over a bed of nails just two feet from the house. Marcus or his planted them. He planned this down to the final detail." Chris's eyes were dead of emotion. Bash understood what it meant.

"And if you all hadn't been busy playing fuck buddies last night someone might have heard it!" His chest heaved as he screamed, needing to blame someone else to avoid freezing the way he had when he lost Kathleen.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe you aren't." Liam grasped his arm. "But right now, all that matters is getting her back before he touches her."

"That bastard. I'm going to destroy him." His body trembled with fury. "They couldn't have gone far."

Bash whirled, seeing Alex and William for the first time. Alex was holding Ranger, the dog shaking like a leaf but appeared unharmed.

"We have to go!" William screamed, his face contorted with rage and blue eyes blazing with fire. "Get the fuck in, and we'll figure out how you managed to lose her from ten feet back."

Bash flung himself and William, slamming the smaller man into the ground. His fist pulled back to punch William, but someone caught his arm.

"It's not a finger-pointing game, and hurting each other won't get her back. Get the fuck in the truck." Liam snarled, his anger showing in every crease on his face. "Move," he snarled.

"Alex, the tire. Now." Chris barked, his lips pursed into a thin line as he jumped out of the truck. "She's not Kathleen, Bash. And more importantly, she has a tracker in her backpack."

"She's what?" Bash and Liam spoke together, though they had very different tones.

"When we first stopped last week, I put one in. I wasn't fucking playing around." He turned and froze, tension rocking through him in the rigid way he stood. "Get the fuck in the truck. I don't want to waste any more time than we have to."

"I'm driving," he growled, walking past Chris and getting in the truck. "We all know I'm more reckless. I'll get us wherever they took her.

Every time he closed his eyes for even a moment, he saw Marcus's smug grin and Emma's terrified eyes echoing in his mind. It fueled him forward, driving him to push harder than ever before. He knew that he was wrong. She wasn't gone yet. That suck fuck wouldn't kill her, but time was running out—they had to find her before it was too late.