Maya Banks - The Darkest Hour

When they got back to the wrecked SUV, there was no sign of Sean. Ethan wasn’t waiting around. He jumped into Sam’s truck and cranked the engine. He was already backing down the trail when his brothers jumped into the backseat.

“Son of a bitch, Ethan, are you trying to kill us?” Garrett yelled.

Sam leaned up over the front seat, and Ethan heard the click of a gun clip. “Calm your ass down and get us there in one piece. We won’t do Rachel any good if we’re wrapped around another goddamn tree.”

“How the hell did she get back to your house?” Ethan demanded as he careened back onto the highway. “We found her footprints on the riverbank. They ended there.”

“I’d say our girl got smart and headed downriver to the lake,” Garrett said with a note of pride.

Ethan gripped the steering wheel and ignored the pounding in his head. Sean had slapped a haphazard bandage over his brow to stop the bleeding, and it currently felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his skull.

They made the drive in ten minutes, and probably set a new land speed record in the process. Ethan turned into the driveway damn near on two wheels and skidded to a halt, throwing gravel in all directions.

Sam opened his door and stumbled out. “Shit. House is completely dark. When we left after Sean called about your accident, we were in a hurry and damn near every light in the house was on.”

Garrett slapped a Glock in against Ethan’s stomach and gripped a second one in his hand as they hurried toward the front door.

“We do this smart,” Sam warned. “No one goes in like a dumbass and gets himself shot. For all we know this is one big trap and those assholes are lying in wait. They might have even forced Rachel to make the call if they caught up to her and she didn’t go into the water like we thought.”

“Cut the chitchat and let’s go,” Ethan seethed. “I get it. We go in and clear the house.”

“I’ll go around back,” Garrett said. “Wait fifteen seconds and we’ll go in together. Stay low and quiet until we know what the fuck we’re dealing with.”

Sam held a finger to his lips then gestured for Ethan to move in as Garrett disappeared around the side of the house.

After what seemed like an interminable wait, Sam held up three fingers then reduced to two and finally one. Ethan reached for the knob and quietly turned it before easing the door open.

He went in, gun up, his eyes scanning the dark interior. Sam slipped in beside him and went to the left, leaving the right to Ethan.

Methodically they worked their way through the upper level. After the last bedroom had been searched, they met in the living room and crept toward the basement.

Ethan’s pulse was about to thump out of his skin. He could feel every heartbeat. Each breath sounded like an explosion in the quiet room.

What the fuck?

He looked up at his brothers, who were positioned at two other points in the basement.

Nothing. No Rachel. No one.

A light sound came from the far corner. Light, almost like a small animal brushing against something.

The men tensed. Sam held up a finger to his lips and raised his gun with the other. He made a swinging motion for Ethan and Garrett to converge with him.

They crept, guns up, toward the noise. Ethan was closest to the light switch. He waited for Garrett to motion beside him and then he flipped the switch on.

Light flooded the room. To Ethan’s shock, Rachel was huddled in the corner, behind the hot water heater, wet, barefoot and bedraggled. She threw up her arm to shield herself from the sudden light even as she scooted farther into the corner.

Relief staggered Ethan. His knees gave out and he damn near hit the floor. He shoved the pistol into his waistband and bolted toward her. Garrett beat him there and dropped to his knees in front of her.

“Rachel,” Ethan called hoarsely.

He stopped behind Garrett and stared in utter shock. Oh God, he couldn’t take much more of this. How much longer would he live in fear of losing her?

“Ethan?” she called weakly. “He’s here? I thought . . . I wasn’t sure how badly he was hurt in the wreck.”

“He’s here, sweet pea,” Garrett soothed.

He moved to the side so Ethan could crowd in beside him. Ethan stared, too overwhelmed to say anything. He knew if he tried, he’d just break down and cry like a baby.

She glanced nervously up at him and then her gaze skittered sideways. He swallowed. The caution was there. She was remembering what had happened before the accident. Before she’d been terrorized. His throat ached so damn bad.

“Are you okay?” Garrett asked. As if realizing he was shouting, he lowered his voice. “What the hell happened, sweet pea?”

She shifted, and a gasp of pain escaped in a loud rush. She tried to lift the arm that was clutched against her chest, and it was then that Ethan saw how swollen and misshapen it was.

“Oh shit.”

“My arm,” she said haltingly. “I broke it when the car hit us.”

“Holy fuck!” Sam exclaimed. “Rachel, how the hell did you manage to escape with a broken arm and run through the damn woods and down a river to the lake. I assume that’s what you did, hit the lake and take a ride down the shore until you got here?”

She smiled, but it was obvious she was hanging on by the barest thread. Her breathing was erratic and shallow, and she looked pale and shocky.

“Those self-defense moves Garrett and Donovan taught me when Ethan was away so much.”

“You’re shitting me!” Garrett said. “Hell, and to think we teased you for being such a girl.”

“That’ll learn you,” she said faintly. “I did good. Just like you taught me.”

Her words were slurring now, and her eyes slid closed, then opened again like she was battling to stay conscious.

Garrett reached out to touch her hair. “You did just fine, sweet pea. Just fine.”

Behind Ethan, Sam was on the phone demanding an ambulance for Rachel.

“Baby, I need you to stay awake for a little while. Can you do that?” Ethan asked in a gentle voice.

He wanted to touch her. God, he wanted to hold her, but he was afraid to move her, afraid he’d hurt her more, but most of all he was scared to death she’d reject him.

She nodded slowly. “I’m tired. I hurt.”

Garrett stroked her hair, and he glanced over at Ethan, sympathy bright in his eyes.

“I know you hurt, baby. Just hold on a little while longer, okay? Can you tell me if you’re hurt anywhere else?”

She touched her face with trembling fingers. “Jaw aches where the jerk hit me. I kneed him in the balls.”

Sam laughed, but it came out weak and shaky like he was battling the same emotion so raw on Garrett’s face and so agonizing in Ethan’s soul.

“I’m okay otherwise. I think. Hard to tell. Arm hurts so bad.”

She was whispering now, and her head slid to one side.

“We need to get you out of this corner,” Garrett said. “It’ll hurt, sweet pea. God, I’d do anything not to hurt you, but I don’t know how to do it otherwise. Sam’s called an ambulance, but it’ll be easier if they don’t have to cart a stretcher down the stairs.”

“S’okay,” she slurred. “I’m just so glad y’all are here. I was so scared.”

Ethan closed his eyes and bowed his head. Garrett laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed comfortingly.

“You try to get behind her as much as you can,” Garrett said in a quiet voice. “I’ll get her legs. We’ll lift her out and get her upstairs.”

“I’ll get some blankets and pillows,” Sam said.

For just a moment, Ethan’s and Rachel’s gazes met and held for a long moment. Beyond the physical pain, Ethan could see wounded uncertainty, nervousness and deep sadness. He’d give anything in the world not to have been the cause of her sudden hesitation with him. Even if he understood it completely.

“I’ll try not to hurt you,” Ethan whispered as he slid his hands underneath her arms.

As careful as he and Garrett were, he felt her cry of pain to his soul. He gathered her against his chest, and Garrett carefully positioned her arm down her body.

Ethan inched up the stairs, turning sideways so he didn’t bump her into the wall. Sam had gone ahead, turned on the lights and placed a blanket on the couch.

Ethan eased down, holding her carefully. Sam tucked the blanket around her and they settled down to wait.

Sam’s cell phone went off, startling Rachel. She flinched and let out a low moan.

Sam yanked the phone to his ear. “Sam here.”

Ethan watched closely as Sam’s eyebrow went up.

“Yes, we found her. We’re waiting for an ambulance. She’s hurt, but I think she’ll be okay.”

Another pause.

“No, that’s fine. Go where you’re needed. Nail those sons of bitches to the wall for me. We’ll be at the hospital waiting for a full report. Check in when you can, okay?”

Sam shoved the phone back into his pocket.

“What the hell was that about?” Garrett demanded.

“That was Sean. They’ve arrested two men in the vicinity of the wrecked SUV. They think they’re our guys. He’s hauling them in for questioning now.”

Ethan’s nostrils flared. It took everything he had not to react, but he didn’t want to disturb Rachel.

“I want those bastards,” Ethan said in a low voice.

“Tell Sean . . . one was a tall skinny guy. Dark hair. Mustache. Other . . . he drove . . . was one with gun. Shorter and stocky. He shot at me.”

“Son of a bitch,” Garrett muttered.

Rachel was fading. Her eyelids fluttered and slowly closed, only to jerk back open again.

Garrett sat on the other side of the couch and said in an overly loud voice, “Is there anything else you can tell us, sweet pea?”

She stirred lightly against Ethan as she fought the veil of sleep. Ethan rested his cheek against her head and tried by sheer force of will to infuse his strength into her.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, and then her brow crinkled in pain. With a barely audible sigh, she lost the battle and slid into unconsciousness.

ETHAN paced back and forth outside Rachel’s hospital room. Other members of his family had gathered in the hallway, and they all looked at him with deep concern in their eyes.

Sam and Garrett leaned against the wall closest to the door while Marlene and Frank stood against the opposite wall. Marlene’s eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. Rusty stood a few feet away, hands shoved into her pockets. She looked uncomfortable, but her usual belligerent scowl was absent.

“How long does it take?” Ethan spit out as he glanced at the closed door again. “Why won’t they let me inside?”

His mom laid a hand on his arm and squeezed reassuringly. “They need to get her settled in without all of us looming over them. Especially you. You probably scare the nurses half to death.”

Ethan spun around and paced back down the hall. He was going to go crazy. After hours in the emergency room, Rachel had finally been transported to a private room. She’d only woken up intermittently, and she’d seemed confused and shaky the few times she was conscious.

Her arm was set and casted, her other wounds and scrapes tended to. The doctor assured him she’d make a full recovery. But Ethan needed to see her. He was going to go out of his mind.

The door opened, and they all converged on the nurse as she left the room. She held up a hand with a pained expression.

“She’s resting comfortably now. I gave her something for pain. Try not to overexcite her. If you could limit the number of visitors she has at one time, that would help.”

Ethan swallowed and nodded. He didn’t care who beyond himself got in as long as he got to see his wife. He pushed by the nurse and ducked into the room.

His chest tightened when he got his first look at Rachel lying on the bed. Her casted arm was placed carefully over her waist, and she was huddled in the sheets like she was still trying to protect herself.

A bruise darkened her cheek, and Ethan closed his eyes to the murderous rage that billowed over him.

As he crept closer, he noticed the dark shadows under her eyes. Her lashes rested on her cheeks, giving her already fragile appearance an even more delicate air. The nurse had cleaned her hair, and now it was brushed soft over the pillow and lay around her face in waves.

The flimsy hospital gown did little to modestly cover her, and he vowed at the first opportunity he’d get her something more comfortable to wear.