Author: Lisa Phillips
Category: Christian
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/lisa-phillips/page,13,563080-sanctuary_deceived_witsec_town_series_book_4.html
“Like you’d compile it anyway. How do you keep track? I’m surprised you can go anywhere in the world without someone there trying to kill you.”
“There are a couple of tiny islands. And my mom’s house.”
“Of course,” Bolton smirked. He’d heard some rumors himself about Ben’s life. “Your mom.”
“Don’t go there.”
“Why, will you zap me, too?”
“Yes.”
Bolton dialed Shadrach’s number and waited. “He’s not answering.”
“Try Remy.” Ben rattled the number off the top of his head.
“No answer from her, either.”
Ben didn’t offer any cute platitudes that involved lying about being sure they were fine. That Nadia was fine. Bolton didn’t want to think about the alternative. This was Nadia.
Dante was going to try to take that away from him. From Andra and John, from Pat. From everyone Nadia went to church with and loved. Didn’t God have something to say about what was going on? Bolton figured if she loved God as much as he knew she did, then He had to be doing something about her being in danger. Otherwise her faith was pointless.
Okay, God… He didn’t even know what to say.
Chapter 12
Shadrach grabbed the keys and jumped out of the car. He heard the passenger door slam but didn’t have to look back to know Remy was right behind him.
“He’s still in there.”
“Doing what?”
Both of their voices were breathy as they ran across a busy downtown street toward the bank where Nadia had gone. To make a deal with the devil. All for the sake of a man who wasn’t even with her, because he had gone off to fix his own problem. For some reason, Nadia had it in her head that she could fix this for Bolton.
“Just talking to her, it looks like.”
Shadrach ducked into the alley and leaned against the outside wall of the bank. Dauntless sat. Ready. Remy tucked herself right behind him, out of sight, just like he’d told her to. He peered around the corner. Two men stood by a black van parked on the outside. Dante’s men.
He turned back. Remy’s attention was on the tablet in her hands, the screen a display of the internal camera feed from the bank that she’d hacked into. Nadia, face to face with an escaped federal prisoner who had an axe to grind. He wore a disguise, but it was Dante. If she survived this, it would be a miracle. And if she didn’t, neither would Shadrach. He was enough of a man to know that if his twin was killed, it would destroy him. This fight was to save both of their lives.
“I have to get in there before he gets her out.”
“What about Dauntless?”
“He stays with you.” Shadrach peered around the corner of the wall again. “I’d prefer my rifle and a rooftop, but people in busy cities tend to freak out about snipers shooting people in the middle of the day.”
Remy’s mouth curled. Shadrach didn’t want to decipher what that meant, so he said, “Call 9-1-1. Report a sighting of the fugitive Dante Alvarez.”
“You want the cops here? They’ll flood the place trying to figure out who you’re talking about, and you won’t be able to get Nadia out without a lot of questions.”
“I’m not scared of them.” Shadrach grinned. “I’m not Ben Mason.”
She frowned. “Then you have your real ID in your wallet?”
“Of course not.” Shadrach gave Dauntless the command to guard and set off. He knew the kinds of things Dante had been involved in before Bolton’s testimony sent him to prison. He suspected more than was reported officially, but Shadrach couldn’t be sure if what he had an inkling of was true. Now wasn’t the time to try for proof. When the cops found Dante he would go back to his lifetime prison sentence. Additional charges wouldn’t make much difference.
The two men saw him, but didn’t make a move. Shadrach’s trigger finger itched. Maybe Dauntless should have come inside the bank with him. A service vest wasn’t exactly ethical, but the dog performed a service. He kept Shadrach from shooting people who annoyed him.
The heavy door opened with a rush of air-conditioned breeze. Dante reached out and pulled Nadia to her feet. To her credit, she didn’t look ruffled. Had she already presented him her deal to get Dante to back off of Bolton for good? If she had, Dante seemed in the mood for a different kind of deal.
Shadrach glanced at the security guard to give him a signal that something was happening, but the man only stirred his coffee with a short red straw. He lifted the Styrofoam cup to his lips and winced. Too hot.
Shadrach could have rolled his eyes. Instead, he reached to the back of his waistband and fingered his gun. Just in case.
Nadia’s eyes locked with his. The action was enough to get Dante to turn his direction and place Shadrach’s sister in front of him.
“Let go of my sister.”
Dante’s face was lined, a man who had seen much and done more. Shadrach didn’t care about any of that. He was a simple guy, and he wasn’t going to apologize. One corner of Dante’s mouth curled up. “Guess I know why Bolton sent you.”
They faced off, six feet from each other.
“Let her go now, and I won’t shoot you.”
The security guard set his cup down and started their way. “Something wrong, fella’s?” At least he had some kind of instinct for this gig.
Shadrach held up a hand. “This guy is going to let my sister go, and she and I are going to walk out of here. No harm, no foul.”
The security guard turned to Nadia. “What’s your decision, little lady?”
Shadrach saw the war on her face. She didn’t want to go with Dante, but she did want to finish the transaction. She still thought she could do this, instead of comprehending the simple fact it was a fool’s errand. Dante would probably take the money and then kill her—and that was the best case scenario.
Dante lifted his gun and rested the heel of his hand on Nadia’s shoulder, so that the weapon would fire right beside her face.
Shadrach’s gun was aimed at the spot between Dante’s eyes. A place Shadrach would dearly love to embed a .9mm round from his Glock.
“Now, now…” the security guard began. He didn’t even have a decent weapon. Dante would shoot him before he drew that stun gun.
Police sirens sounded in the distance.
“This is the end of the line, Dante.”
Dante laughed and glanced aside at the security guard. “Perhaps your eyesight is poor, old man, but let me enlighten you. This is the man who killed President Sheraton.”
Shadrach didn’t wait for the security guard to try and figure that one out. Evidently Nadia didn’t intend to either. It was her that said, “That was disproved.”
Shadrach didn’t care what people thought of him, but it was sweet of his sister to come to his defense. “Dante, give it up. The cops will swarm this place in under a minute. All that’s left for you is to go back to jail.”
The door swished, and Dante’s men entered.
The man’s gaze flicked aside for a split second. “Take care of the cops.”
The door swished again.
“I’m not going to let you take my sister anywhere.”
Dante clenched his teeth together. “You deserve it for what your mother did to me.” He shifted the gun and motioned to a wicked gash on his face that hadn’t been treated.
Ah, so his mom had done some damage.
“Pulled some old-man revolver. Shot up my men and then ran off with the sheriff.” Dante let out a bark of frustration.
“Good for her.” Shadrach grinned. “Who do you think taught her how to shoot?”
“An eye for an eye.”
They both fired, Shadrach a split second after Dante’s bullet left his gun and before the bullet slammed into his vest. The impact forced him backward, and his shot went high. His back hit the floor, and all he saw was ceiling.
Two rounds. The security guard hit the floor.
Shadrach lifted his head, gun already up. He returned fire as Da
nte dragged Nadia Marie toward the back of the bank. Fire exit.
Every breath burned like fire in his lungs. Broken rib. True to form, the thin veneer over Shadrach’s luck had cracked at precisely the moment he needed it to remain intact. Figures. He forced his body to move and managed to get up. He stumbled to the back as the police ran in.
“Denver PD, nobody move!”
Shadrach kept going. The hallway. The EXIT sign above the door had been flung open, the siren blaring. He raced toward it. Dante had to have another vehicle back there, or he planned to steal a car. Either way he had Shadrach’s sister, and Shadrach had to try and stop the man.
The device on his wrist vibrated to signal an incoming call. Shadrach pulled his cell from the back pocket of his jeans. Unknown Number.
He answered. “Please be someone helpful…”
“It’s Bolton.”
“Hopefully you’re having a better afternoon than I am.” Shadrach slammed into the wall by the door, his legs about to buckle. He needed to breathe, but it hurt.
“What’s going on?”
He peered out. No sign of anyone.
Shadrach lifted his weapon and scanned as he emerged from the building into a rear parking lot. “Dante was way ahead of us. When Remy activated the necklace to find Nadia, Dante was already in Denver. He beat us to the bank, and it doesn’t look like he’s interested in Nadia’s money to settle this. Looks a whole lot more like he’s just interested in Nadia.” Shadrach sucked in a breath.
“She tried to…what?” Bolton’s voice was low and lethal.
“He piled her in his car and took off.”
“She tried to save me.” Bolton’s voice was distant, and then came back louder. “Ben and I will head back, but it’s going to take a few hours.”
Shadrach sucked in a breath and stared at the empty street where his sister had been. He’d failed again, just as he had when Remy was hurt, and there had been nothing he could do to fix it.
“She’ll be dead before you get here.”
**
Nadia couldn’t move. The effects of the stun gun had worn off and left her jittery but unable to get any kind of relief. She cracked her eyes open. The fluorescent overhead washed everything in bright white. Still couldn’t move.
She looked down at her hands. Plastic flex-cuffs held them to the arms of the metal chair. Her feet were tied the same, so that she was completely immobilized.
She shut her eyes again, and prayed for some dream that would be better than this nightmare. But when she reached for relief, all Nadia saw was the flash of gun fire as her brother fell down. Was he dead? No, she would know if he were. They were twins. She’d have felt it. Still, this heaviness in her chest had to come from somewhere.
Whatever way she spun it, Nadia was alone.
The room was empty, a bland-walled room with concrete floor that smelled like old dust. An office. A freezing one—she could see her breath when she exhaled, though the air didn’t feel too cold on her skin. A storage unit, maybe. Did it matter? Probably the only significance to this room was that it would be the crime scene where her mutilated body was found.
Tears streamed down her face. Probably her nose ran, too. Nadia wasn’t too proud to fight the tide of what was happening to her. Maybe her snot would freeze with Dante’s fingerprint in it.
You might have to help me out with this one. She could barely cogitate a decent thought, but God knew what she was trying to say. This wasn’t the plan. I was supposed to be helping Bolton. Apparently paying Dante off was not Your idea, just mine. It didn’t work. Or maybe I was always supposed to arrive at this moment.
God didn’t cause bad things to happen, but He did use man’s actions—good or bad—to fulfill His purposes. If He had brought her here or if Nadia had landed herself here because she hadn’t listened when the Lord had tried to tell her that paying off Dante was an awful idea, it didn’t much matter. Either way, God had always known that she would wind up here, tied to a chair and waiting for a madman. Wondering if her brother was even alive.
Help me know what to say. How to answer them. Protect me. Protect Bolton, and Ben and Shadrach, Remy. Everyone helping to find me. Help them find me.
Nadia sniffed. It had been a solid plan, but it wasn’t the first time in her life she’d done what she thought was right, and it had turned out badly. Go figure. Maybe she hadn’t been changed, made new, as much as she’d thought. Maybe God still had a lot of work to do on her.
She prayed there would be time enough for Him to do that.
As the minutes ticked by, Nadia racked her brain for something to distract her. A song she could sing. There was plenty of music on her iPod that was in Sanctuary, but she couldn’t remember even one song. All she could remember was a song she taught the kids at Sunday school. So she hummed it.
Jesus loves me, this I know…
The door handle turned, and Dante strode in. He stopped two feet in front of her and looked her over. “Hmm.”
Nadia’s lips didn’t open. She might have been able, had she tried. Only it felt like they were being shut on purpose. God had promised an answer in every situation, but maybe this was His doing also. Silence in the face of the enemy.
“I’m not a bad man, though I have been known to do many bad things. But you never have to learn exactly how bad I can be.” Dante unbuttoned one sleeve and proceeded to roll it up. “This can be pleasant for both of us.” He did the same with the other sleeve and then stretched his arms in front of him and cracked his knuckles.
Dante had grabbed the back of her head in the truck and slammed her forehead into the dash to get her to stop struggling. The stun gun had come later, when they’d arrived here.
Nadia didn’t want to know what this man was going to do.
“I only want to know where to find Bolton Farrera.”
Nadia didn’t move her gaze from his face. After a minute of silence, he spoke again.
“Your boyfriend is a very bad man, Ms. Carleigh. Over the years, he has bought and sold a great deal of illegal merchandise—even women. Bolton Farrera has killed those who got in his way and even partnered with a cartel to bring drugs into this country. Drugs like the ones you were fond of in your younger years.
“It’s funny that you have this connection. But your former life and Bolton’s are quite different. He has been a force of destruction in this world, while your actions never hurt another soul. You, Ms. Carleigh, created things. Bolton Farrera ruins every single thing he touches.”
Dante pulled a photo from his pocket and showed it to her. A woman lay on the ground, dead. Blood matted her hair to her face, and she stared with sightless eyes as though all her dreams had been lost. Stolen.
He let go, and the photo fluttered to the ground.
“Bolton Farrera is not your friend. If you continue to associate with him, you will end up either dead or in jail as a party to his activities.”
Nadia shut her eyes.
No wonder he’d never said anything about who he was or the things he had done before he came to Sanctuary. He’d been the worst sort of person. A criminal, a dealer. And while part of what this man had said was right, he didn’t know that she had harmed someone with her wild days of parties, alcohol, and recreational drugs. Nadia had harmed herself, and she had pushed away her family. Her friends had walked the moment it became clear that she was in danger.
“I see you aren’t disagreeing with me. Perhaps part of you knows that what I say is true.”
Part of what he said was true. The rest, she couldn’t be sure. It didn’t ring as completely legitimate. Still, something in her just couldn’t manage to argue with him. To deny it, however feebly. Bolton Farrera was a dark person. He had never managed to fully hide that part of himself.
He had strong opinions and wasn’t afraid to stand up to people.
He almost reminded her of Ben. Mysterious, with an edge—but ultimately a force for good in the world. Even if the way he went about it was bad.
&nbs
p; Or maybe that was the artist in her who wanted to see the best in the people she cared about, and their families. Andra would never have married the sheriff if she’d had reservations about his brother. They’d have talked about it, but Andra never said anything about Ben. In fact, Nadia had almost wondered if they might have met before on some kind of spy mission.
“Tell me where your boyfriend is, and I’ll let you go.” His voice was hard but had an edge to it. “You will not like the alternative.”
Nadia opened her eyes. “I don’t know where he is.”
“Does he have a phone?”
“I don’t know the number.”
“Where was the last place you saw him?”
“Denver.” He wasn’t there now, so what was the harm in telling Dante? It was a big city, after all.
“Where did he go?”
“To find someone called Tristan.”
Dante pulled a phone from his pocket and typed for a few seconds. He stowed it in his pants once more. “Has he told you anything about a ‘cache’?”
Nadia would have shrugged, but she was tied to a chair. “It’s been a crazy few weeks. I can’t remember if he said anything.”
“Yes, let’s talk about that. Before six weeks ago, when the necklace you are currently wearing was first activated, where were you? With Bolton?”
He wanted to know about Sanctuary? Nadia wasn’t going to put all those people in danger. Bolton had Ben. He could take care of himself. If half the things this man had said were true, then Bolton deserved to face his enemies. He’d figure out a way to get out of it. Nadia only had to come up with some kind of plausible half-truth.
“I met him six weeks ago. He had the necklace, and I wanted a new life. So I got in his truck, and we headed for Seattle.”
It was so flimsy, she probably had a look on her face. Like, please believe this. Dante studied her. She wanted to shift in her chair, but she couldn’t move.
“Two people, both in witness protection. A helicopter explodes and you have a chance meeting? I think not. And a sheriff’s report in a small Idaho mountain town proves you wrong. You showed up there with Bolton Farrera.” He leaned closer. “Where did you come from?”