Explosive Attraction - By Lena Diaz Page 0,70
open.
Darby’s hands flew to her throat. The shaft of a knife stuck out from Nick’s abdomen. Blood trickled down from the wound. “Oh, my gosh, Nick. Oh, my gosh.”
He laughed, then winced. “Not exactly the words I used when it happened.”
Darby bent down on her hands and knees, studying his wound. “It’s not bleeding much. I don’t think we should pull the knife out, though.”
“Hurts like hell. I don’t suppose you brought the bomb squad with you, before you were caught?”
“No, but I did bring your brother. Or rather, he brought me. Our car exploded.”
Nick turned pale.
“No, no, Rafe wasn’t in the car. He pulled me out. We both got out. But I don’t know where he is now.” She shoved to her feet and rushed to the bomb to look at the timer.
They had less than fifteen minutes.
“I’m sure he got away, and he’s bringing help,” Nick said.
“Right, I’m sure he is.”
Darby exchanged a glance with Nick, and realized they were both lying to each other.
* * *
THE TRAIL THROUGH the woods was easy for Rafe to follow. Sonntag hadn’t bothered to try to hide his footprints.
He wanted Rafe to find him.
Which meant Rafe was walking into a trap. But he didn’t have a choice. He had to find Darby and Nick.
He didn’t know how long he’d been in a blast-induced stupor. How much of a head start did Sonntag have? A minute? Five? More? Rafe clenched his hand around his pistol.
Hold on, Darby. Hold on, Nick. I’m coming for you. Hold on.
* * *
“IT’S A PIPE BOMB,” Nick offered, his voice weak, barely above a whisper now.
Darby rolled her eyes. “Even I can figure that much out.” She crouched over the ominous-looking bundle of pipes and wires, looking for...what? A sign that said Pull Here To Disable Bomb?
“Darby.”
“Leave me alone, Nick. I’m thinking.”
“Darby.”
The urgent, low-pitched tone had her jerking around. Rafe stood at the doorway, separated from her by three feet and a very strong set of iron bars.
A sob escaped her as she ran to him. “Rafe, thank God you’re okay. We’re trapped. And there’s a bomb. I don’t know what to do. I don’t—”
“Are you hurt?” He reached a hand through the bars and grasped her hand in his.
“What? No, no, I’m fine. I guess the haircut wasn’t as much a disguise as we’d hoped, though, huh?” She tried for a smile but failed miserably.
He looked past her, and his jaw tightened. “Nick.”
Darby heard the pain in his voice. She turned. Nick’s eyes were closed. She turned back to Rafe. “He’s alive. See his chest rising? But he’s been stabbed. We need to get him to a hospital.”
Rafe looked over his shoulder. He shoved his gun in his holster and grasped the bars. He strained and pulled, the cords standing out in his neck. He gave up, panting. “It’s no use. Buresh is on the way, with the bomb squad. They’ll have bolt cutters. We’ll get you out of here.”
“We don’t have much time. The bomb...maybe you can tell me what to do. Do I just pull the wires out?”
He grabbed her hand when she started to turn away. “Don’t touch it. One spark and it’s over. See the timer?”
“Yes.”
“How much time is left?” He half turned, watching the woods behind him.
Darby looked at the timer, careful not to touch it. Her heart plummeted and she ran back to Rafe. “Seven minutes, give or take. What do we do?”
His gaze darted back and forth, searching out every corner of the mausoleum. Then his gaze met hers. “There may be a way. But you’ll have to be strong. And you’ll have to work fast.”
“Anything. What?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. He plopped it in her hand.
“Do you want me to cut a wire?”
“No. There’s nothing you can do to stop the bomb.”
She grabbed the bars in her hands, pulling at them in frustration. “For a bomb tech, you don’t seem to be very good at disabling bombs.”
His mouth quirked up in a smile. “I promise I’m a lot better with a bomb suit and appropriate tools.” His smile faded. He looked at her with what could only be called pity as he reached out and cupped her face with one hand and pointed behind her with the other. “You’re going to have to remove one of those marble squares on that far wall. There’s a screwdriver on one end of that knife. Use that.”
“Marble squares?” She looked where he was pointing. Her throat