Fighting Conviction by Greer Rivers
Prologue
One year ago
“Go, go, go.”
Hawk’s command echoed against the shipping containers, shattering the silence.
Devil broke the line and emerged from their hiding spot. A dark figure appeared at his three o’clock. All it took was one shot from his Glock. A thump of a body hitting the ground, followed by a moment of silence, confirmed the threat was eliminated. The dead don’t scream.
A sudden onslaught of gunshots drummed a staccato beat against Devil’s senses. Cries of pain called to the medic in him, but he forced himself to concentrate on one woman’s safety. Adrenaline twisted his chest but steadied his aim as he picked off the enemy, one by one. Blood rushed in his ears, muffling all distractions from his objective.
Devil reached the van, giving a wide berth to the first casualty of the night. A man sprawled out in the dim light, shot down by Jaybird’s bullet. Judging from the odd angle of the man’s legs and the dark stain creeping across the concrete, he wasn’t getting up.
Nora, the woman with purple hair who’d made the shot possible, was pushing herself up onto the bumper of the van, attempting to get back in its open doors. She’d flung herself out to attack one of her captors, but the vehicle was the only safe haven among the chaos.
Gun ready to fire, Devil defended them as they climbed inside, turning halfway to scoop her up with his free hand. Still aiming while he hefted her into the van, he grunted from the effort of doing both at once. She was a tiny thing, but dead weight in the heat of battle only made more dead weight.
When Nora was tucked inside, he chanced taking his eye off the enemy and crawled in behind her, pushing body-sized duffel bags aside so he could shut the van doors.
Slamming the doors closed muffled the gunshots outside, but the van’s thin metal walls only provided a false sense of security. He widened his eyes to see in the dark and realized how many heavyweight canvas bags there were. How many victims there were. The panic he’d always held at bay during a mission wrapped cold fingers around his heart.
“Where is she?” His hands skittered over zippers, afraid to open one and find something he couldn’t unsee. Or worse. Someone he couldn’t help.
“Here,” Nora rasped. Her pale hand patted the lump next to her and Devil’s heart stalled. Nora’s head lolled to the side as she closed her eyes, her lethargy and labored breathing all signs of the drugs those bastards poisoned them with.
Devil latched on to the bag she’d indicated and unzipped, revealing blonde hair in the dark. He grabbed his flashlight from his tactical belt and shined it above the occupant’s head to avoid beaming it straight at the woman inside.
Bleary caramel eyes fluttered open in the light. He couldn’t resist brushing his fingertips against her warm cheek.
Even though she’d been kidnapped—and God-knows-what-else—a soft smile spread on her face and the stone barrier he’d erected years ago cracked. Tightness formed around his mouth and he felt the foreign sensation of his lips widening into a smile of his own.
“You’re safe, Ellie. I’m with your brother. We’re gonna get you out of here.”
Ellie blinked and a tear escaped, crumbling his defenses further.
“You found me.” Her soft whisper battered into his soul. The words splintered fissures in the barricades surrounding it.
Surrendering to his emotions, he bent to brush his lips over her forehead and smoothed her tangled hair away from her face.
“That’s right,” he answered.
Silky golden tendrils surrounded her, forming a halo. The air he sucked in couldn’t make up for the breath she’d taken away. Devil rested his forehead on hers and he closed his eyes reverently, knowing he only had a moment before he had to aid his men outside.
“I found you, angel.”
