The Santas Who Stole Me (Stolen #1)

Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

ZEKE

“Sweetheart.” His voice fills the coms, and I motion to Calum that I’m going to the basement. He nods, dropping the last of the bodies and shoving one in the pantry. There were five guards total, including the man who came out of a car stationed at the front. The security was a complete waste of effort, since there was plenty of cover sticking to the shrubs and the shed in the neighboring yard.

The moment I heard Georgia through Keeper’s coms I felt relief like I have never known. That is until I heard Chad call her sweetheart. Calum is silent on his way to the stairs that lead to the basement. We signal to each other the plan. After all of the jobs we’ve done together, we can work seamlessly. I rush to the back, unsure of what is happening with Georgia. Chad must have slipped in when we were in the kitchen moving the bodies out of the way.

Walking behind Keeper, I pull my gun on Chad who stands on Keeper’s right. I’m hoping my presence is enough of a distraction to allow Keep to get to her. It worked as planned, because his gun is on me now. My head tilts to the side, eyeing Chad, trying to figure out what will make him pull the trigger. He isn’t displaying many emotions now. In fact, he looks almost friendly. Still, I notice the slightest tremor in his voice.

“Oh sweetheart, you are so smart. You brought the men here to help with the FBI investigation. You always were the best asset we had at the bureau. She gave me some good clues about what you and your band of merry men have been up to. I have to say, you have your security tight around your accounts. It is fascinating; a technical company like the one you report to the IRS. I can’t imagine it does that well with so few employees.”

Chad is indeed pleased with himself for knowing how I avoid tax evasion with one of our companies. It’s not a closely guarded secret. The company information is public knowledge obviously for reporting purposes. Killing makes a sizable salary, but it’s all for shit if you don’t have a way to clean it and get it into usable funds. Still, with the tech company, there is no record of our real names or a way to trace us on social media. I don’t know how he made the connection, which makes my palms twitch more than I would like to admit.

Georgie is staring at the ground, her hair covering her face, without acknowledging any of us. Keeper hasn’t made it any closer after Chad’s little speech.

“What the fuck do you mean asset?” Keeper asks. His fingers move to the knife shoved in the back of his pants, and the other hand grips the bolt cutters.

“Informant. How do you think I got approval for the raid to try to dig up dirt on the cartel? Good old Georgia came through, although I’m not sure she really knew who her friends were. Either way, the FBI thanks her. Well, they would if they knew it was because of her I found one of the Vega Cartel’s business fronts. I forged evidence to get the approval for the raid, but with people like that, it will be easy to find more dirt once we take the place.” He’s so confident and delusional. I don’t believe Georgia helped him get any information on us.

She has no clue about the Vega connection to Marge. I only just figured it out. Regardless, the Vegas don’t get caught, false evidence or not.

“How about this, Georgie tell them what you did, and I’ll let them go. They can run off and leave us together. I will fail to mention them in my report on the diner takeover.”

Georgie peers at him through the breaks in her hair covering her face.

“Is that true? What did you tell him?” Keeper asks.

“It’s true. I made that call to him to try to get back together, and once I figured out what you all were doing, I helped him. So leave now.” She hides her sniffle and shifts her legs, causing the chain to rattle.

Even hiding under her hair, I can read her like a book. Shifting eyes before she pushed her tongue against her cheek in her mouth. She’s a terrible liar.

Keeper’s back ripples with anger. I can’t imagine it would be at Georgie. He must know she’s lying.

The basement door that Chad entered from squeaks, and Chad jerks his head to see who caused the sound. The woman, who I assume is the agent that tricked Georgia, walks up to Chad with a smile on her face. I hate assuming. I don’t work well when I’m attempting to gather information with a gun in my hand. My finger itches to kill everyone rather than assume anything further, which is exactly what I do.

The second his attention shifts, my finger squeezes the trigger. I realize there is a ninety-seven percent chance he will shoot me back, but I’ll take the risk. This will give Keeper a chance to move. Calum’s deal applies for me too. Georgie is priority so as long as I breathe, that will reign true. Now Keeper can run like hell and get her away from this.

Chad turns slightly, and the bullet pushes his shoulder back causing him to stumble. Surprise and anger mark his face. His jerky movements swing his weight to the side, and my second bullet hits him at least three inches too far from the heart.

Then all hell breaks loose.

Chad doesn’t fire back at me. Instead, his outstretched hand remains steady when he stares down the barrel at the woman’s head. The gunshot rings out, a bullet knocks her down, and Georgia screams before Chad points the gun back to my chest. I briefly note the woman’s blood pooling beneath her.

Any other person might feel sorry for her, but I certainly don’t. She walked away knowing my girl was stuck down here. Additionally, I have never felt sorry for anyone.

Not even when Georgia bared her soul about what she endured with Chad, I didn’t feel sorry for her. I was amazed she made her way to us. Georgie is too sweet and innocent to deal with the hell Chad put her through. Never again. She has three men willing to go against the devil for a chance to kneel at her feet.

Chad glares at me, then slowly touches his bullet wound with his free hand. Red seeps across his chest, dripping less quickly than I would like. His fingers spread, and he runs them down his shirt, wiping the blood off. Glancing back at me, disgust and hatred fill him, mirroring my own thoughts. His finger begins to curl on the trigger. He’s made up his mind and decided to end this for both of us. The sound of glass raining on the dirty concrete distracts him. His head turns to the right to see the window has been broken, and a bullet slides through his eye socket. His body falls back, but not before he lets out a string of rounds from the Glock he was holding.

There’s a slight burn on my leg and a pinch in my chest, but I ignore them. The only thing I want is to find my way to Georgia. Keeper has her in his arms, and the chain remains on the ground. Her head is tucked into him, and he’s whispering to her. Her body trembles, and she must be crying. I fight the urge to shoot Chad in the face again. Calum’s shot didn’t leave much face left anyhow, so I keep my feet moving. It’s taking much longer than I expected to cross the small basement.

Calum enters from the outer entrance, and he calls her name and then mine as I drop to the floor. Crimson red fingers reach out for her but not far enough. It doesn’t matter. They have her, so she will be safe now. I made sure of it with my last breath.