Secrets Collide (Bluegrass Brothers)

still barely hear the strings of bluegrass music coming from the band as Cy spread his suit coat onto the ground.
    “Dance with me,” Cy’s voice rasped as he held out his hand. She placed hers in his and laughed as he pulled her tight against him. “Gemma, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
    She nuzzled his neck with her lips and let him talk when in reality talking was the last thing she wanted to do. His hand slid down her back as they swayed to the music.
    “I . . .”
    “Well, isn’t this cute? The spy and the reporter.”
    Gemma spun around as Cy shoved her behind him. She looked over his shoulder at a little man with big glasses and a crazed look in his eyes.
    “Mr. Boss Man, I presume. To what do we owe this honor?” Cy asked casually as he rocked back on his heels.
    “Honor, you have no honor. You and this bitch are the downfall of society. When a man can no longer earn a living because you’re arresting his people or writing an exposé on my group, huh, Gia? I thought I had gotten rid of you once, but you know what they say about evil—it never dies. Now I’ll make sure you die, Gia,” he spat.
    “I feel introductions need to be made. I’m Cy and this is Gemma. And you are?” Cy’s casual voice turned hard and she felt him pushing her away. She looked down and saw him frantically motioning for her to run. But she couldn’t. She had to find out his name.
    “Stop playing games. Just ask Gia who I am. She figured it out, just as you did when you found my daughter. But I’ll make sure you’re both dead this time.”
    Cy shoved her and she started to run only to run straight into a solid wall of muscle. Gemma gulped as large hands clamped around her arms and she screamed in pain.
    “Ah, there you are, Sergei. Bring her to me. Don’t even think about it, Cy. Sergei will snap her neck if you move from that spot.”
    Gemma smashed her foot onto Sergei’s and fought with all she had. But Sergei just squeezed tighter; she thought her arms would snap under the pressure. Sergei shoved her into the outstretched arms of the mastermind behind her sister’s death and without thinking, she pulled back her arm and punched him in the face.
    “Bastard!” she screamed but all too soon the back of his hand connected with her face so hard that she fell to her knees. She felt him grab her and haul her up as Cy ran forward.
    “Sergei. Take care of him.”
    “No.” Gemma fought against the man’s grip. She twisted, kicked, and screamed against the hand that muffled her, but she couldn't stop this fight to the death. She kicked out once more, and screamed when the hand was removed from her mouth. But this time her scream was cut short as a cold metal object was pressed against her neck. Electricity from the stun gun stopped her fighting instantly. Her body cramped and her legs gave out as he caught her and started dragging her deeper into the woods.
     
    Cy heard Gemma squeak and then drop to the ground. Sergei took advantage of the distraction and landed a solid punch to Cy’s face. His head snapped back and he lost the advantage in a split second.
    Ducking another punch, Cy leaped forward and tackled Sergei to the ground. There was no sound except the breaking of tiny branches and the occasional grunt as they rolled on the grass grappling for position. Cy managed to pin Sergei’s arm, but Sergei raised his legs and clamped them around Cy’s neck. Cy’s fingers slipped from the hold he had on Sergei and Sergei tossed him to the ground. Before Cy could catch his breath, Sergei had him in a chokehold.
    “I’ll enjoy killing your girlfriend, but I won’t be so kind. I’m going to take my time,” Sergei hissed.
    Cy felt his world darkening. He knew he couldn’t break the hold and that left only one choice left if he wanted to save Gemma. He dug out his cell phone and pressed Speed Dial.
     
    Miles had his arms around his wife and enjoyed feeling her tiny belly growing. Her small bump pressed against his stomach as he danced with her. “Did the baby kick?” he asked, jumping back.
    Morgan giggled. “No. That’s your cell phone. The baby will kick but not for about eight more weeks.”
    With great reluctance, Miles pulled out his phone and looked with confusion at his brother’s number. “It’s Cy.” He answered the phone and listened to sounds he knew too well. “And he’s in trouble.”
    “What?” Morgan asked, but he was already running.
    “Where’s