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“Come join us, doctor,” Gratton called, not looking over his shoulder at Snow. “I’ve been waiting for you. I just didn’t think you’d be nice enough to bring me a gift.”
Snow descended the last few stairs, his hands hanging loose at his sides as he weighed his options, searching for an opening that would get Jude safe and free from this madman. The sound of Snow’s hard-soled shoe hitting the ground floor caused Jude to turn his head just a little bit to see him. His right eye was cut and starting to swell. There was another smear of blood across his bottom lip from a cut.
The thump he’d heard…Gratton had surprised Jude, hurt him. And it was only the beginning.
The fear that had gripped him instantly burned away in a wall of anger rushing through his veins, torching the last tendrils of doubt. Snow took a step toward Gratton and the man shifted just the tiniest bit, taking his finger off the trigger to place it on the guard, as if out of habit while he moved. The opening was slim but Snow wasn’t going to wait for this fucker to kill Jude.
Pushing off from his back foot, Snow launched himself at Gratton. The man started to scramble back a step and raise the gun toward Snow to protect himself, but it was already too late. Snow’s larger body slammed into Gratton, tackling him to the ground hard enough that a shock of pain reverberated through his body from the impact. The gun flew out of Gratton’s grip, but Snow didn’t see where it landed and he didn’t care. Rage blazed through him along with memories of Ian battered and terrified, memories of Mel and her beautiful, smiling face. Straddling Gratton across the waist, he threw wild punches at the man’s face. The first two landed, pummeling his jaw and scraping his cheekbone. Gratton got his arms up, catching his next wild punch so that he could shove Snow off of him.
Clipping the coffee table with the side of his head, Snow blinked, slightly dazed as he got back to his feet. He moved too slowly and Gratton was up off his back, delivering a hard right, snapping his head back and sending him stumbling a couple steps. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Jude lunge at Gratton, trying to pin him back to the ground, but Gratton used Jude’s momentum, tossing him over his shoulder to land on the coffee table. The crash echoed through the house as the table crumpled under Jude’s weight.
Snow swore and tried to rush Gratton again, but the fucker speared him in the middle of the chest, tackling him to the ground. He tried to get his arms up as Gratton knelt at his side, pounding down on him with his elbows and fists. He blocked some but one hit him just right, rattling his brain as the back of his head slammed against the floor when he tried to rise.
And then suddenly Gratton was gone. He blinked rapidly, clearing the swimming in his head. Pain throbbed through his ribs and head. His vision doubled and grayed at the edges. Groaning, he rolled onto his side and crawled to his feet again. His eyes focused just in time to see Gratton drop his foot on the gun Jude had been trying to reach. The paramedic lifted his face to look up at Gratton and the bastard brought his beefy fist down to Jude’s temple, knocking him flat. He didn’t move.
Snow roared, trying to get to his feet, desperate to get to Jude. But it was too late. Gratton scooped up the gun and brought it around so Snow was staring down the barrel just inches from his face.
“Enough foreplay, Frost,” Gratton panted out, sounding somewhat winded. “I say it’s time for the real fun to start. Jagger certainly didn’t invite me back to Cincy for a quick romp in your bedroom.” Gratton paused, a low laugh rattling up his chest and a grin spread across his thin lips. “No, when I’m done today, you and your fucking friends will be dead, and Ian will be mine again.”###
Rowe swallowed back a snarl. He wanted to just kick in the goddamn backdoor and mow Gratton down with the Glock that was sitting heavy against the small of his back. Just one bullet to the forehead and it would all be over. But he couldn’t risk Snow and Jude. They lay in the middle of the living room, their hands and legs tightly bound. If he didn’t time it just right, Gratton could kill one or both men before Rowe could get him. He couldn’t risk the doc. They’d lost so much already.
A loud bang rattled the house from Hollis kicking in the front door. Even through the back door, Rowe could hear his barked order.
