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“What now?” Bryce asked. He had no weapon, and it was now four against one.
Headlights cut through the trees, casting shadows from the thick foliage at the perimeter of the property before coming into view. Was Kira out there somewhere watching this go down? She might be his only hope in having the FBI pinpoint his location.
The men marched him toward the approaching vehicle. Ice pulsated through his veins. If he left with his captors, he’d disappear forever. Just like the treasure room would if these men got ahold of it.
A gun pressed into his back and forced Bryce to move to the back of the car.
No. Not the trunk. Not the—
The trunk popped open and inside was a body, bound and gagged.
His heart stopped.
Kira!
20
THE BRIGHT LIGHT HURT Kira’s already thumping head. She tried to reach up and shield her shut eyes, when she realized her hands were bound in front of her with duct tape.
Where . . . what . . . how? She couldn’t even form coherent thoughts. Think! She remembered hitting the ground at the sound of gunfire.
She attempted to feel around, but the duct tape on her hands and legs prevented her from any wide movements. The surface beneath her scratched her skin.
Carpet?
Something thudded and slammed into her. She finally opened her eyes and squinted.
A body? Was it Violet?
The screechy sound of duct tape being unrolled meant they were binding the person who now lay next to her. It was a man in a suit, who had what looked like brown hair. The lighting wasn’t great even with the lid open.
The trunk slammed shut, plunging her into darkness again.
“Kira?”
The voice brought tears to her eyes as he removed the gag from her mouth.
“Bryce! What happened?”
He shifted his position and reached over to grab her bound hands with his. She took comfort in his touch.
“It was a total ambush,” he said. “Three gunmen and the art gallery attendant, whose real name is Victor Baranov, outmaneuvered us. Victor shot Natalia and demanded the statue. The next thing I know, I’m being shoved through an underground tunnel. They want me alive, apparently.”
“Someone must have followed Violet and me. She’d left the car to get into position, and I was so absorbed in studying your grandfather’s map that I didn’t notice anyone behind us. Do you know if she’s okay?”
“I didn’t see Violet, but I don’t think they want her. I’m a valuable target because they have the journal but probably have no idea what the notes mean. They’ll want me to decipher my grandfather’s writing.”
“Well, I figured a few things out, so we have a bargaining chip at least. But if these men killed Natalia in cold blood, they won’t leave witnesses alive. We’re expendable once they locate the fortune. Hopefully Violet made it to safety.”
The car jostled, and Bryce bumped into her. “I think we’re not on pavement anymore,” Kira said, missing Bryce’s touch when their hands fell apart.
A hard bounce and Kira whacked her head on the side. Bryce covered her with his bound arms in an effort to steady both of them.
Steady. A perfect description for the man. Bryce’s presence, his no-nonsense attitude, his stoic countenance and occasional subtle humor, all added up to a sense of security that she hadn’t felt in—well, her entire life. Even when the Millers had adopted her, she continued to struggle with the notion that she had to be exactly what they wanted her to be or they might take her back to Russia. That her dream home with parents hung by a thread, based on her performance. Of course, the Millers never set any of these expectations, but Kira couldn’t destroy old childhood lies to see that truth.
But with Bryce, things were different. She could be herself and he didn’t judge her for that. Of course, they might die soon, and any life-altering conclusions about herself didn’t matter if they couldn’t get free. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what? I should apologize to you. I didn’t want to cut you off the team like that. We’re partners, and I know how much my actions hurt.”
