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Snow flashed him a crooked smile. “I can live with that.”
“I—” Jude broke off as the sound of fighting and gunfire filled his ear. It sounded like Rowe and Noah had managed to locate the men entering the building, but they weren’t able to take them by surprise. There was shouting and cursing, but Jude couldn’t make much sense of it all. He prayed that Lucas was would return soon. Maybe they could go up to the fifth floor and barricade themselves in until Rowe and Noah announced that it was safe. He wanted to help them, but Jude knew his limitations. He was more likely to get in their way than to save their lives.
“I talked to the man who was behind Jordan’s attack,” Snow said, jerking Jude’s attention from the action he’d been listening to.
“What? You saw Gene Schaefer?”
“He’s a bastard. He runs the poker ring.”
Jude shook his head. “How did Jordan get involved in a poker ring? He just plays a little here and there for fun. I’ve heard him making jokes at dinner about people who don’t know when to stop.” But even as he spoke the denial, he knew he was wrong. He saw the evidence with his own eyes. Jordan in that video. Jordan fighting for his life in the hospital bed.
“That’s probably how it starts,” Snow continued, his voice becoming gentler. “Jordan probably was playing for fun, but this snake draws people in, gets them to bet more than they can afford. Probably makes it sound like the debt is no big deal. But when they can’t pay off their debt…”
“Go ahead, Frost. Tell him,” said a cold, hard voice from the hallway.
Jude lifted the gun he’d almost forgotten he was still holding in his hand and pointed it at the open doorway. He’d forgotten that he was supposed to be listening for anyone approaching or even listening to the chaos that was still happening on the first floor. Even now, he could hear Rowe and Noah demanding to know where the fifth man had gone.
“He’s here,” Jude whispered.
A middle-aged man walked in with a gun held out in front of him. He glared at Snow and then Jude, pointing the gun at both of them. “The doctor and I had a long discussion about people being irresponsible. People like your brother, Mr. Torres. When they can’t pay me the money they promised, they play out a little scene for the camera.”
“You sick fuck!” Jude shouted. “Jordan didn’t play at anything. You forced him! You had him beaten and raped for your camera. And then you sold it!”
Gene grinned at Jude. “You paid for it.”
Jude was nearly sick at those words. He did pay for it, but it had been the only way to get to the truth of what happened to Jordan.
“But you’re going to pay now,” Jude forced out.
An ugly laugh shook Gene’s shoulders and made his eyes glitter in the harsh overhead light. “I really don’t think so.”
“We’ve got you outnumbered. There’s no way you’re getting out of here.”
Gene continued to grin, his amusement unwavering. Jude’s own confidence started to waver. The bastard really was outnumbered, his own men taken down by Rowe and Noah. He couldn’t see how Gene was planning to get out of there unless Royce and Dominic had missed something. Were there other men hidden somewhere?
“I don’t have to outnumber you to win. I just need you,” Gene continued.
“What?”
“Frost’s friends all rushed to his side to save him when he went missing. And I bet they would let me walk right out of here with you if it meant keeping him alive.”
Jude shook his head, incredulous. “I’ve got a gun on you.”
“But are you going to pull the trigger? A paramedic? A person who has dedicated his entire life to protecting and saving the lives of others. Are you really going to shoot me?” Gene mocked. He was practically laughing in Jude’s face, and there was a part of Jude that was terrified that he was right.
He hated the man standing opposite him with a passion that he knew would never fade. Gene deserved to die. Not rot in a jail cell. No, he deserved to die. The world would be a better, safer place if he was dead. But he couldn’t pull the trigger to deliver that fatal blow. Protecting and saving lives was his entire existence.
“Go ahead, Torres. Pull the trigger. Get your revenge. It wasn’t your brother’s fault for getting in over his head, right? Your saintly brother didn’t do anything wrong. Go ahead, kill me for your brother,” Gene mocked.
“Don’t listen to him, Jude,” Snow said calmly. “The others will be here soon. They will take care of him. We’ll hand him over to the cops, and we can go home.”
Gene laughed again. “I don’t think so. Drop the gun, Torres.”
