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Pris wheeled around. Recognition registered on her face, and her expression snapped from snooping to spiteful.
“What are you doing here? Ella?”
“I told you to come alone,” the man behind Hawk said. He tightened his hold on Hawk, who grunted as the man pushed him forward.
My stomach lurched along with it.No. Let him go. Leave him alone!
“Let me go,” Hawk said. “We can talk about this.”
I tried seeing the man’s face, but he wore a ski mask beneath his hood. He was completely shrouded in black. There was no visibility.
A desire to run, to knock Hawk from the man’s clutches and break for it, consumed me, but I was trembling too hard. Panic overtook my ability to function. This was moving quickly—far too quickly for me to process.
“She was supposed to comealone,” the man said again, jerking Hawk as if digging the gun into his back harder.
“I did!” Pris shrieked. “I don’t know how they knew we’d be here.”
Hawk’s hands lifted.
In an instant, the image of Hawk’s mouth gaping open, of blood seeping from his lips and from an open wound in his stomach, flashed through my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut, attempting to stamp it out.
Movement came from the left. Maddox stepped out of the shadows with his hands up. “You don’t want to do this,” he said, moving slowly toward Hawk and his attacker.
The man jerked, reeling to keep Hawk as a barrier between him and Maddox.
Scraping sounded, and then Duncan appeared behindHawk. The man shuffled again, staggering, clearly taken aback by the two unexpected men.
The pit of my stomach dropped, and fear was a drummer, working rapidly on my pulse.
Where were the police? Had they not gotten Hawk’s message about coming? They could catch this person. They could help!
I took a tentative step toward them too, though with the movement, my knees threatened to buckle. I wasn’t sure when I’d ever been this afraid.
Still, adrenaline coursed swiftly in, giving me unprecedented courage.
If the men were going to dive in to help Hawk, I would, too. Maybe with all three of us against him, he’d bolt.
Just as long as he didn’t shoot Hawk.
Please, don’t let him shoot Hawk.
Pris dashed in one direction, making a desperate break for what I assumed was her car. Maddox headed her off.
I took advantage of the distraction. I wasn’t sure what I’d do, but I wanted to get this shooter away from Hawk.
Apparently, Duncan had the same idea.
The gunman shoved Hawk away, but he wasn’t quick enough to position his gun at Duncan in time. Duncan moved faster. It was almost as though he anticipated the attacker’s movements. With trained hands, he braced them on either side of the gun and twisted.
The weapon fell, clattering to the ground, and Duncan landed a fist in the attacker’s masked face.
The man stumbled backward, slipped on apatch of black ice, and nearly toppled to the ground. Hawk freed his own gun from his belt. Too soon, the attacker regained his footing and broke for the direction he’d come.
“Get him,” Hawk said, slapping the gun in Duncan’s hand. “Follow him!”
“I’m on it,” Duncan said, slipping on the slick ice. He got his balance once more before rushing in the gunman’s direction.
I stood, shocked, in the resulting stillness. A pair of arms wrapped around me. I jumped, stuttering and jerky, my heart sprinting and my body ready to take flight with it. Until I caught sight of Hawk’s overwrought face.
