No. That wasn’t possible. Ana wasn’t dead. Couldn’t be. She was a federal agent. She’d been trained to fight, to protect the innocent. Nothing—not even the bastard in front of him or anything Benning had accused her of—could bring her down. Heat spread from behind his sternum as seconds ticked by, the muscles along his jaw protesting. Shaking his head, he let the tree bark bite into the wound from where he’d been knocked unconscious. She wasn’t dead. Because that meant... That meant he’d never get to tell her he hadn’t meant what he’d said. “You’re lying.”
“Are you really willing to take that chance? Are you willing to bet your daughter’s life on it?” His attacker pressed cold steel against Benning’s face, and the muscles across his back tensed. “Because without Agent Ramirez protecting her, there’s nothing stopping me from doing to her what I plan to do to Owen once your twenty-four hours runs out.” The edge of the blade pierced through the thin skin at his cheek, a drop of blood trickling down from the cut. “The skull, Mr. Reeves. That’s all I want, and you and your kids can go back to your lives and forget I ever existed.”
He wasn’t part of this world. He wasn’t trained in hand-to-hand combat, weapons or negotiation. He didn’t come into contact with killers on a daily basis like Ana and the rest of the Tactical Crime Division, but even Benning recognized the lie behind the promise. He forced his fingers to uncurl and plunged them into the snow behind the tree, out of sight. There had to be something—anything—he could use to cut himself free. He just needed more time. His finger brushed against a sharp edge of a rock. Not sharp enough to break skin, but he hoped like hell it would do the job. Setting the rock against what he thought was the thinnest section of rope, Benning worked to cut through the braided fibers as fast as he could. “Tell me whose body the FBI pulled from the fireplace on my property.”
“Your new friends at TCD haven’t ID’d her yet?” He shook his head. “Pity what had to go down. It was nothing personal, but your nanny took her job a little too seriously, watching those kids.”
Jo. Dread fisted in the pit of his stomach. “She didn’t have anything to do with this.”
“You’re the one who brought her into this when you removed the skull from that site, Mr. Reeves. Not me. Her blood is on your hands. Just as Agent Ramirez’s, and just like it will be when I find your daughter.” His attacker straightened, the weight of those dark eyes pressurizing the air in his lungs. If this guy had beat Ana as he’d claimed, he’d been trained. There was no way Benning could compete with that, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Not with his daughter unprotected. Not with his son missing, and not with Ana injured—possibly dying—somewhere out here. “You’re stalling.”
“Yes, I am.” Benning cut through the last of the ropes at his wrists and launched forward, taking the bastard by surprise. He aimed to return the hit to his jaw, but his attacker dodged the attack and used his own momentum to unbalance him and slammed another fist into his face. Benning stumbled backward, then shot out another punch, making contact. Bracing his feet apart, he lifted his hands into position as his head threatened to split down the middle. He caught the SOB’s wrist as the blade swung down toward him but left his midsection open. One hit. Another. The air crushed from his lungs as the man in the mask took advantage, and Benning had to release his hold on the knife in order to protect himself. The blade sliced down his arm, the sting drawing a gasp from between his teeth, but for a split second, the movement left his attacker open. He wrapped one forearm around the bastard’s neck and hauled him back off his feet. Only he hadn’t anticipated the elbow straight back into his gut. His grip loosened as pain exploded through his side, and he let the man in the mask free.
The killer caught Benning’s wrist and twisted it behind him. His shoulder socket screamed right before a knee rocketed into Benning’s face.
His vision went dark. He hit the ground, snow working under his shirt and into his boots. Every cell in his body begged him to stay down, to give up. It’d be easy, but this wasn’t how this would end. He wasn’t going to leave his kids’ lives in the hands of a killer. He wasn’t going to let Ana’s sacrifice be for nothing.
“You don’t know when to give up, do you? But I’ll tell you the same thing I told Ana before I sent her to her death. You can’t beat me. I’ve lost once before, and I’m not about to let it happen again.” Movement registered above him, a shadow casting across his face. “Now, I’m going to give you one last chance to tell me where you hid the skull you took from the construction site before I lose my patience and put a bullet between your eyes, just as I did to him.”
His breath sawed in and out of his lungs. Leveraging his palms into the snow, Benning struggled to his feet. His vision cleared. Exhaustion and pain tore through him, but he braced his legs wide. Ready to finish this once and for all. “I’m going to keep my word about killing you.”
Benning kicked out, landing his boot heel center mass, then struck out with a right hook, followed by a left. Adrenaline dumped into his veins, throwing the pain and exhaustion into the back of his mind where it belonged. His knuckles met bone twice more before the bastard blocked his third attempt. The
