Race Against Time. Sharon Sala

of the car when it began to roll,” she said. “I want to die. My baby died. I want to die, too.”

      Rage washed through Anton in waves, but he was calm as he stood up and turned around.

      “Why did you shoot at them?” he asked.

      Ian should have been warned by the quiet tone of his boss’s voice.

      “They were getting away.”

      “Where’s Dev? Where’s Bergman and his men?”

      “Bergman and his crew are dead. Dev and I found them in an alley.” He pointed to the floor at Star. “We followed her and your cook out of Vegas. I don’t know who the man was with them. Dev was behind them. He shot at their car. They shot out his windshield. And then their car skidded off the highway and into the desert. We tried to stop them. The car rolled and caught fire. I left him behind to clean up.”

      All the color faded from Anton’s face.

      “You left my son.”

      “The car was burning. There was nothing we could—”

      The roar that came out of Anton Baba was nothing short of terrifying as he pivoted and grabbed the daggerlike letter opener from the desk behind him.

      At that moment, Ian knew he was done. He turned to run but was a couple of seconds too late. Anton leaped forward and stabbed the letter opener into the back of Ian’s neck, cutting the spinal cord and the blood supply to his brain. He dropped without making a sound.

      Anton pulled the little dagger out and wiped it on the back of Ian’s shirt before dropping it back on his desk, then looked down again at the woman on the floor, at the blood and dirt on her body and the grief on her face.

      “This should not have happened,” he muttered, then reached for his cell phone and punched in the number to the wing where his hired guns stayed.

      His call was answered on the first ring.

      “Yes, sir?”

      “Luis, I need the cleanup crew in the library.”

      “Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” Luis said.

      Anton disconnected, looked at Star one more time and then made another call. The phone rang several times before it was answered.

      “Dr. Fuentes, it’s Anton Baba. I need you.”

      “Yes, sir. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

      Anton disconnected and dropped his cell back in his pocket and then went back to Star. The moment he picked her up in his arms, she cried out from the pain.

      “I’m sorry,” he said softly and then carried her out of the library and all the way up to their bedroom. He could not put into words what he was feeling, but there was a pain in his heart and a roaring in his ears. His son was dead.

      Anton laid her on the bed. He’d never seen her like this. Before, she’d been so passive, doing everything he demanded. He’d never looked beyond what she could do for him. But this woman...shattered, bloody, filthy, and so very broken in her grief. He saw her power and her rage and had never been attracted to her more.

      His phone rang.

      He took it out of his pocket, glanced at caller ID and then answered.

      “Hello.”

      “Boss, this is Dev. Is Ian there?”

      Anton thought of the dead man in his library and the blood spreading over the Persian rug beneath his body.

      “Yes, he is here,” Anton said.

      “Okay, then you know what went down. I was still on site when a biker saw the fire and rode off the highway to where the car was burning. The moment the helmet came off I could see it was a woman. And then I saw her run toward the fire, and when she ran back toward her bike she was carrying the kid. I followed her to—”

      Anton gasped.

      “What did you say?”

      “I said I followed her to—”

      “No, no! You said someone took my son! He is alive?”

      “Yes. I saw the biker pick him up and zip him up into her jacket. I tried to stop her but she got away. I followed her into Vegas but lost her in the traffic. When I caught up with her again she was already inside the police station.”

      “Where are you now?” Anton asked.

      “Outside the police station waiting for her to—Oh, hell.”

      “What?” Anton shouted.

      “Two ambulances just rolled up to the police station.”

      “What does that mean?” Anton cried.

      “I shot at the woman as she was riding away. I might have hit her.”

      “She was holding my son in her arms and you shot at her?”

      Dev realized what he’d just said.

      “What do you want me to do?” Dev asked.

      “Did she see you?”

      “I don’t know. It was dark. I doubt it.”

      “You doubt it? You fucking doubt it? Here’s what I want you to do. I don’t want a witness left who can identify you. Get rid of her and bring me my son.”

      Anton knew he’d just assigned an impossible task. One that would probably get Dev killed. He didn’t care.

      “Yes, sir,” Dev said and disconnected.

      Anton slipped his phone back in his pocket, sat down beside Star and took her hand.

      “Star, Star, can you hear me?”

      Star moaned.

      He reached out, then drew back, uncertain of a safe place to touch.

      “Sammy is not dead. Someone found him and took him to the police department. I will get him back for you. Do you hear me? I will get him back.”

      She opened her eyes.

      “You lie.”

      He frowned. People did not accuse him in such a manner.

      “I do not lie.”

      “You lied to me. You told me Sammy and I would always be safe with you, and then you made a deal to sell me. I will hate you forever.”

      He had no response to that.“I will find Sammy and bring him back. You will see,” he said.

      “Stop talking, Anton. Your words mean nothing to me anymore. I just want to die so that all of this will be over. I can’t bear any more pain. I can’t bear any more heartache. I’m sorry I didn’t die. I’m sorry Sammy didn’t die. Then we would both be free of you,” she said and closed her eyes.

      * * *

      Nick followed the ambulances to the hospital. By the time he located the redhead in ER she was on an examining table, naked, bloody and unconscious. He could hear the baby crying a couple of doors down, but a toddler couldn’t tell him anything he needed to know. He just had to wait, hoping the woman would wake up enough to tell him what the hell happened to her. And if that baby wasn’t hers, who did he belong to?

      * * *

      Quinn woke up to bright lights and chaos, bathed in a pain she could feel all the way to her bones. Someone was trying to turn her over and someone else was talking in loud, staccato syllables. A part of her sensed the urgency in the voice, which was not a reassuring sound.

      Where was she?

      What had happened to her?

      Was she going to die?

      Someone was yelling in her ear. A woman.

      She frowned. Why were they yelling?