Chapter Fifteen

O h god. Badlands had never been so quiet.

Carver must be dead.

And she was destroyed.

She had to do something to make this stop.

She fumbled with the combination lock and whipped the door open. She started pulling out money, which looked like a lot but was really bundles of ones and fives.

Stacking it on the desk behind her, helpless tears began leaking from the corners of her eyes. She didn't even care that sobs blazed up her throat and burst out of her like small bombs going off.

She cared about Carver, and she was heartbroken that these bastards had hurt him—or worse.

When she had all the cash on the desk, she spun to face Smythe and his thug. "I'll pay you anything. I can get more."

A sudden exploding sound from somewhere in the bar jerked both men into action.

A scream gathered in Livia's throat, and she ran out of the office after them. Men were pouring into Badlands. Huge men with weapons.

Navy SEALs.

Her knees threatened to buckle as she spotted Colton, Hunter, several ranch hands from the Gracey and a man she'd never seen before but who was definitely military.

Then she let out a cry as Smythe yanked her up against him and shoved the cold steel barrel of a gun into her temple. "Stay back!"

He was going to use her to get away. But did it matter when Carver wasn't among the men standing?

Hunter lifted his own weapon, aiming it at Smythe. Was this a scare tactic they used in the military? Weren't they supposed to drop their weapons to ensure that she got out of this alive?

She'd spent her entire life trusting the process, but she wasn't feeling very patient at the moment.

Another scream bubbled in her throat. She gulped.

"Let her go!" Hunter barked.

Several more weapons clicked as Smythe's creeps pointed them at the men trying to rescue her. Suddenly, she realized they hadn't shown up here by coincidence—that panic button brought them running.

The barrel of Smythe's weapon dug deeper into her flesh, making it feel as if her skull was cracking in two. He yanked on her, dragging her with him backward, toward the exit.

"If you try it, I'll shoot her. Don't test me!" Smythe's vicious words washed over her ear, sickening her.

She met Colton's gaze, then Hunter's. The man she didn't recognize twisted his stare away from her as if he couldn't stand to see the fear on her face.

"Where's Wolfe?" Colton's demand brought more heated words rushing past her ear as Smythe answered.

"Don't worry. He'll turn up soon enough."

Just like the guy from the pond on the Gracey Ranch? The one who went missing and turned up floating in the reeds? She hadn't seen it for herself, thank god, but she'd heard the rumors, and then Ivy verified the truth of it.

Livia let out a pained whimper.

With a yank, Smythe hauled her out the door and shoved her into a vehicle.

The last thing she remembered was the expression on Colton's face. His jaw was set with determination.

They would try to rescue her.

Maybe she didn't want to be rescued.

What was left for her when Carver was gone?

* * * * *

Carver was basically a prisoner of war.

But he was a SEAL. That cancelled the first issue.

After he dropped four bodies on the floor, the final two had overpowered him. Next thing he knew, he was waking up in an empty garage surrounded by mechanics' tools and the reek of gasoline.

If they'd doused the place and intended to light a match, he was fucked. He couldn't break his bonds and free himself from the pole they'd chained him to before the whole place went up in flames.

Livia.

Fuck. His throat thickened with emotion. He'd failed her. When he let down his guard and missed checking the back door where their attackers had entered, he failed both of them.

His head throbbed from the pistol blow he'd taken to the temple. But it was nothing compared to the ache in his heart at what had probably happened to Livia.

For long minutes, he drowned in regret. If he'd lost her…

He curled his fists where they were pinned behind his back. Then he lost it, yanking brutally on the chain until it dug into his wrists. The pole support rattled. If he could pull it down, he would. He didn't even care if it killed him in the process. Without Livia—

He had to get a clear head. He was no good to her like this. If she was alive.

And he had to keep that spark of hope that she was.

His mind reeled with the sounds of that horrible day—the day of the strike that killed most of his brothers-in-arms. The screams. Then the awful silence as dust hung in the air.

He'd been tossed to the ground, crumpled face down, listening to it all through ears stuffed with cotton from the blast.

What he'd seen when he lifted his head would be his constant torment.

So would the aftermath of living without those friends.

Very few of them remained. He'd come to Montana to watch over his men, then he got in deep guarding Livia.

Now he wasn't helping any of them.

Red rage blinded him, and he tore at his restraints again, jerking the chains tight around his wrists until he felt the metal dig into his flesh and the trickle of hot blood.

He couldn't stop.

Livia. My precious love.

Was she alive? Had those motherfuckers taken her?

He lost his head for dizzying minutes. He was to blame. He was no good to Livia or any of them.

The clank of the chain on the metal pole filled his one good ear. The other had been temporarily deafened by that punch he took.

Suddenly, his hands moved forward a fraction, farther than they had in the past few minutes he tore at the bonds.

He paused, head hanging low. Breathing hard, his mind settled on his surroundings again.

Slowly, deliberately, he tugged on the chain.

It didn't seem to give any more, so he pulled harder. Straining his muscles, he felt the cords in his neck popping.

Yes, goddammit. It did feel like one of the links was giving. He twisted one hand up, feeling along the length for an inconsistency in the links. When he ran his fingertip over a small bump, he paused and did it again.

He edged his fingernail into a minute gap between the curve of a link.

A gap.

If he'd learned anything in his career as a SEAL it was to find that break in an opponent, in an enemy, and make it wider.

He dug in, tearing at the chain until he was pouring with sweat and his flesh was raw from the metal.

He had to get the hell out of here. He needed to return to Badlands. Find Livia. Find Colton and Hunter.

When his fellow SEALs lost their lives, he refused to stop living. He wasn't going to give up the fight to find the woman he loved.

After he had her safe and sound in his arms, he was going to tell her that he was going to marry her…and wait for her sassy reply.