Chapter Sixteen

Cam woke up coughing, his head pounding like it was squeezed in a vise. He tried to touch his forehead, found his hands were bound behind his back. It took a minute to remember why. Oh yeah. Brett. How long had he been out? Where was Audrey? He hoped like hell she hadn’t been shot and left to die, although that fear didn’t wash. If he’d wanted to, Brett could have shot them while they were sleeping. No, it was more likely he’d taken her as leverage.

Cam coughed again. Smoke. That meant fire. He didn’t see any flames. Yet. It smelled fresh. He had no time to waste.

Rising to his feet, he got dizzy, swayed, and sat down, realizing that his ankles were also fettered. He couldn’t be positive that whatever was smoldering wouldn’t explode any minute. He should get the hell out of Dodge. But running around in the redwoods in his boxers wasn’t an option. No way. Besides, he wasn’t even sure he could run.

When he was confident he wouldn’t land face first on the floor, he rose more slowly, then wiggled his hands at his back. Audrey had pulled the zip ties tight. Good. If they were tight, he could break them easier. He spared another few seconds on Audrey and the night they’d had, how amazing she’d been. How perfect she was. And how screwed she’d be, unless he quit mooning over her and got his ass in gear.

He bent at the waist, wobbled, steadied, then held his breath before raising his bound hands behind him as far as they could extend before bringing them down on to his ass while pulling his fists apart. The tie snapped in two. His wrists stung momentarily.

He checked his face wound. His fingers came away sticky with blood. He’d been out long enough for it to coagulate. A shotgun butt to the head. Not a bullet hole, at least. It was a wonder he could still think from all the pummeling his skull had gotten recently.

He hobbled over to the desk, pulled out a pair of scissors, and cut the tie at his feet before investigating the smoke. The striped kitchen rug and the corner of the wood island were on fire. The cause was a poor man’s grenade, a Molotov cocktail. Just as he reached for the couch blanket to smother the flames, they jumped from the rug to the cabinet that housed the gas stove. Time to go.

He grabbed his clothes from the floor, stepping into them while swaying on first one foot, and then the other. He jammed his bare feet into his shoes, pocketing the socks for when he was out of harm’s way. The flames were dancing up the kitchen walls now, the smoke billowing, clogging his nostrils as the fire gained strength. He looked around the front room. Brett had snagged his M17, but there was no time to search Zack’s cabin for the weapon Cam was sure the paranoid bastard had hidden.

Feeling stronger by the second, which was probably the adrenaline talking, he ran to the front door, snatching one of Zack’s caps hanging on the wall hooks. Just as he twisted the knob, there was a whoosh from the kitchen as the flames gathered strength from all the wood cabinetry. He crossed the threshold to fresh air, could have sworn he heard a faint shout over the rush of burning wood. He paused on the porch, cocked his head, ignoring the heat at his back.

He thought he heard the sound again. Ice cubes of fear trickled through his body. It wasn’t possible. He’d been left to die in the burning cabin, while Brett dragged Audrey with him as his get-out-of-jail-free card. Hadn’t he? Unless…he hadn’t.

His eyes rounded at the realization that Brett had left Audrey in the back of the cabin so that if Cam did get loose, he wouldn’t know about Audrey and would, in a sense, be her murderer by leaving her behind. What a sick bastard.

He reentered the cabin. The fire had engulfed the island. Any second now the stove was going to blow, and them with it. Flames licked along the floor, a burning obstacle he’d have to jump over in order to get to the back bedrooms. He paused and coughed, swiping at the tears running from his eyes. The smoke was thickening.

He heard her voice again, the underlying hysteria in it. He grabbed the scissors from the desk, covered his nose and mouth with his forearm, and exploded into action. Leaping over the flames, shoulders bouncing off the hallway walls, he scanned all open doorways on the fly.

He found her, spread-eagled on the bed in her designated room, blood oozing from her bound wrists. She’d been tugging on her bindings for a while. She coughed, head canted toward the closed window. Her body sagged with defeat. His heart broke. She was defenseless, believing she would burn alive in this wooden tomb, unable to free herself but continuing to try.

“Audrey!”

She turned at his voice. The smoke tears gave way to relief tears as she cried out his name. “Cam! Oh my God, you heard me! I was afraid that if you woke up, you’d chase after Brett and leave me here to die!” She was a blubbering mess, and he couldn’t get over how close he had come to leaving her behind.

He bent and kissed her soundly. “I’ll always have your six.” He reached for her hands and cut the ties, did the same at her feet. She crawled off the bed and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tight. Needing to get out of this growing inferno, he still took time to enfold her in his embrace, kiss the top of her head.

A popping noise came from the kitchen. It was time. As much as he loved the feel of her in his arms, burning to a crisp in that position wasn’t romantic. Brushing his lips once more in her hair, he whispered, “We gotta go. This place is going to blow any second.” As if to emphasize his words, the shadow of dancing flames crept down the hall toward them.

She pulled out of his embrace slowly. He dropped his arms to his sides, feeling oddly cold. Their gazes met. She lifted a hand, cupped one side of his battered face. “I’m so sorry, Cam.” A long second stretched out before she turned to the window. Her words were sincere and that puzzled him, but he didn’t have the time to dissect them now. She was struggling to raise the window. He added his strength and they got it up. She pushed at the screen.

“Get out of the way,” he said, backing up. She frowned but did as he said. He kicked the screen out, just as the flames reached the doorway. Their roar intensified from all the new fuel they’d devoured.

“Let’s go,” he shouted, but she was already scrambling over the sill. He dove through after her, grabbing her elbow and pulling her forcibly toward his truck. He skidded to a stop, getting more pissed off by the second as he stared at it. Of course his truck tires had been slashed. Why had he ever thought they wouldn’t be? He wanted to catch up with Brett and pound the hell out of him. All-Terrains were expensive, damn it.

“This way.” He motioned for Audrey to follow him. She’d been looking back at the cabin. He took off up the donkey track they’d traveled the evening before at a punishing pace. Had it been just last night? The same night he’d spent in Audrey’s arms, making love until they’d fallen asleep, deliciously exhausted? It seemed like days ago.

He could still see the marks he’d left on her neck and chest exposed by the scooped neck T-shirt she’d pulled on in front of Brett earlier. He remembered the way his ex-friend had ogled her as she dressed. There was an extra punch in the face reserved for him when Cam caught up to the bastard.

At a jog, they reached a rise in the road when an explosion rocked the ground they stood on. The propane tank had finally surrendered. He grabbed for Audrey, shoving her to the dirt, landing on top of her with an “oof.” After the initial shock, nothing more came at them. They heard the whoosh of flames, the crackle of burning wood, but it didn’t reach them here.

Her hair tickled his nose, its slight floral fragrance still discernable through the smoke and dirt. He caught himself on a deep inhale and stopped abruptly, attempted to ignore that his dick was wedged against her ass. He was too aware of her, especially after last night, when her body had been his for the taking. And he’d done plenty of that. He felt himself growing hard, so he crawled to his hands and knees, allowing himself some time to get back to normal.

She rolled to her back. Their gazes met. Heat of a different sort kindled in her eyes. She was as aware of him as he was of her. The air crackled around them like the flames in the cabin. A flush washed through him that had nothing to do with the out-of-control fire and explosion.

“I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up in time, that you and I would die, never able to see the other one again,” she whispered, lifting a hand to his bruised and battered face, caressing his cheek with a gentle touch. He closed his eyes, turned and kissed the palm of her hand.

“I hated being helpless,” he replied, voice hoarse. “I thought he’d taken you with him. I was going to kill him with my bare hands if he had. I still might.” He bent his head to kiss her lips, sank into their eager softness. She deepened the kiss, hands going to the back of his neck, pulling him to her. It was tempting. Damn tempting to reaffirm their lives in wild abandon, but he resisted.

Battling her considerable power over him, he shook his head. “Not now. Lord knows I want to, but we’ve got a murderer to catch.”

She grimaced, and he allowed himself another taste of her lips. Not enough. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of her. His dog tags swung loose, bouncing off her chin. She wrinkled her nose.

“When you say it like that, how can I resist?” She kissed him again, a quick peck, before she pushed on his shoulders. He rose to his feet, shooting out a hand to help her up. Sharing one more smoldering look, they continued their trek in silence, both listening for footfalls ahead of them, or the start of an engine.

Brett had to have hidden his car nearby. He wouldn’t have walked very far to the cabin. Cam’s gaze swung left and right, searching for him, a vehicle, or both.

They hadn’t put much space between them and the obliterated cabin when he pulled up short, raised a hand, and cocked his ear toward the upward trail. He thought he made out voices. Plural, not singular. That perplexed him. He’d figured Brett was working alone, making his way up the terror cell ladder, if there even was such a thing. Having an accomplice threw a disturbing kink in the wheel.

Audrey stood behind and to the side of him. By her expression she heard the voices as well. When she silently stepped around him, moving closer to Brett and the UNSUB, Cam about shit himself. What the hell was she doing?

He reached for her elbow but she evaded him, creeping forward as nimbly as a cat. The ferns and undergrowth that carpeted the redwood forest absorbed her footsteps. Vowing to take her to task for her recklessness once they were alone, he followed her, placing his feet where hers had been, until they’d gotten close enough to make out the conversation.

Brett was speaking, and he wasn’t happy with whoever he was talking to.

“Why the hell are you here? I don’t need a babysitter. You’re supposed to stay put until you’re activated.”

“Maybe I was.”

Cam frowned. That voice was familiar. He racked his brain to match the voice with a person he knew. Problem was, he didn’t hang around terrorists. At least, he didn’t think so.

“Why? Your part in this isn’t ready. I neutralized the threat. Go down and look for yourself if you don’t believe me.” Brett sounded petulant. He’d always hated being checked up on.

“What threat? The woman? Your ex-buddy? They weren’t part of this. You were supposed to continue surveilling—”

“She accessed our conversations. She was adding two and two together. I had to stop her. Harris was just collateral damage.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Arctic cold blew through Cam. His heart stuttered in his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He recognized the speaker. The ramifications slammed into him like a truck. Shudders coursed through him as he tried to wrap his mind around his discovery. This couldn’t be true.

“You’re miles from where you’re supposed to be. The target is your objective. Not some petty beef with your ex-girlfriend or friend. I set you up to escape your transfer to gather intel, not go rogue. You didn’t follow the game plan. You’re considered a loose cannon.”

Cam tried to focus on the words, not the speaker. They were learning important shit here, and all he zeroed in on was the fact that Chief Warrant Officer Hal Linder, whom he’d just updated the other evening by phone, was discussing terrorist activity with Brett in the redwoods.