Page 68 of Rebel Protector
He took a right down the hall, passing two unlocked doors filled with gardening equipment and pool supplies. The third door was locked.
He knocked but got no response. If Becca was inside, she couldn’t answer.
His body tensed.
Please don’t let him be too late.
Without any lock-picking tools, he went for plan B: kicking the door down. It took a few hard kicks and several shoulder slams, but eventually, the door splintered and gave way.
“Becca!”
Ghost rushed to where she sat tied to a chair. Her head hung forward, and for a terrifying moment, he feared the worst. His heart pounded as he checked her pulse.
Thank God. She was still alive.
“You!” came a voice behind him.
Carlos.
Slowly, Ghost turned to face Becca’s captor.
“What are you doing here?” Carlos barked, eyes narrowing as they landed on the rifle in Ghost’s hands.
“What does it look like?” he growled.
Carlos drew his weapon, but Ghost launched himself at him before he could fire. Gunshots would alert the rest of the guards, and he needed to get Becca out alive.
Carlos pulled out a hunting knife, and the two men squared off. Ghost removed the magazine from his rifle and tossed it aside. He was going to enjoy this.
Carlos snarled, slashing at him, but Ghost sidestepped easily.
Nice try, asshole.
Ghost punched him in the stomach, dodging the knife again as Carlos grunted but stood his ground. The guy was sturdier than he looked. He came at Ghost again, eyes blazing, the knife glinting in the dim light.
“I’ll kill you,” Carlos sneered.
“Not if I kill you first,” Ghost muttered, dodging another strike and landing a solid right hook to Carlos’s head.
Carlos staggered but recovered, advancing again.
Becca moaned softly, drawing his attention for a split second—enough time for Carlos to slash him across the upper arm.
He grunted in pain but didn’t back down.
You get one. That’s it.
Enough was enough.
As much as Ghost would have enjoyed round two, Becca needed him, and they had to get out of here. At any moment, the Panamanian police could show up.
He kicked the knife out of Carlos’s hand, grinning at the look of shock on the henchman’s face. The blade flew across the room, sliding under some boxes.
Ghost closed in, pummeling Carlos in the face, breaking his nose and splitting his lip. “How’s that feel, you brute?”
He kept hitting him until Carlos stumbled backward and crumpled to the floor. Ghost didn’t stop until he was sure the guy wasn’t getting up again.
Becca moaned, and Ghost straightened, wiping his bloody knuckles on his pants. He grabbed the knife and cut through Becca’s bindings, catching her as she slumped forward into his arms. He ripped the tape off her mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Her eyelids fluttered but didn’t open.