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Ian’s step was lighter on the metal, making only a murmur of sound behind Snow’s pounding tread. They rose above the firefight on the ground floor, and Ian forced his thoughts away from Hollis and the rest of his family. He was only half listening to the chatter back and forth as his companions counted off the men they took down, whether by bullet or tranq dart. They were keeping a count, but the problem was that they had no idea how many people had been in the warehouse before they entered.
As they reached the second floor, Ian smiled at Snow, who looked over his shoulder to check on him. Before Snow could turn back, a man ran out of an open doorway and lifted his gun, pointing it directly at Snow. Ian didn’t think or speak. He launched himself into Snow’s stomach, slamming him against the wall, while Ian covered him with as much of his body as he could. He tensed, waiting to feel the bullet tear through his flesh, but it never came.
Behind him, a window broke and Ian opened his eyes to see the man who’d been aiming at them spin around as something unseen hit him in the chest and shoulder. He stumbled backward and went tumbling over the waist-high metal railing before plunging to the concrete floor below.
“You’re welcome,” Lucas said in a low drawl.
Snow groaned. “Never gonna let me live that down, right?”
“Nope.”
“Thank you,” Ian whispered, not caring that his voice was shaking. It had been too damn close. Snow’s arms briefly closed around him, hugging him. Snow’s voice might be calm and even bored, but Ian could feel his heart pounding like mad under his ear.
“Be careful,” Lucas admonished. “I think the target is in the room that fuck just came from. I’ve got no visual.”
“Got it,” Snow said evenly, releasing Ian.
The instructions were clear. The moment they stepped into that room, they were on their own. No more backup.
Ian followed Snow to the doorway the man had stepped out of to find two men in jeans and T-shirts shoving piles of money into what looked like two large overnight bags while holding their phone flashlights on their work. The lighting was horrible, but Ian could make out the angry and frantic expression twisting Carter’s…or rather, CJ Thorpe’s face.
From the doorway, Snow fired several rounds into the room. Ian was stunned to see that he was still using the tranq gun, but maybe he shouldn’t have been. Any bullets Snow put in, there was a good chance he’d have to take out later if they survived.
Both men shouted and grabbed their guns. But while one dove behind the desk for cover, Carter lunged for Max. He wrapped an arm around the smaller man’s neck and pulled his limp body up so that he was little more than a human shield. Ian’s heart skipped a beat to see Max’s seemingly lifeless body dangling in front of Carter. Max didn’t even flinch or cry out at the rough handling.
“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you ain’t getting out of here alive!” Carter shouted. He extended his gun past Max’s beaten and bruised face and fired into the open doorway. Ian and Snow pulled away. Ian prayed the walls were thicker than they appeared.
“We just want Max,” Ian called out when the bullets ceased for a moment.
“The whore?” There was no missing the surprise in Carter’s voice.
Ian clenched his teeth to hold in the torrent of angry words he longed to unleash. Max was more than what he’d been forced to do in order to survive. When he could speak evenly, he replied, “Give us Max and we’ll leave. No more trouble.”
“Who are you?”
Ian glanced at Snow and his friend was shaking his head fiercely, glaring at him in warning, but Ian ignored it. “Take the opening,” Ian whispered, and then he was moving around Snow’s larger body. He inched slowly into the doorway so that Carter would be able to at least make out the shape of him in the darkness that was only thinly cut by the bright moon. “You remember me, right? From Waffle House,” Ian said to Carter.
Carter lowered his gun a little and his mouth fell open in surprise. “Pretty boy? What was your name again?”
“Ian.”
“That’s right. Ian. What the fuck—”
“I came to pay you that five grand Max owes you.”
“Are you fucking shitting me? All this…you attack my house? My people? For this little whore?” Carter barked out an ugly laugh. “And you think five grand is gonna cover it. Oh, fuck no!”
“Ten grand,” Ian snapped. His damn palms were sweating so much, fingertips trembling in fear.
“Try again.”
“Fifty.”
“I had no idea he was such a great fuck,” Carter cackled and then suddenly stopped. “But try again.”
No matter what he offered, it wasn’t going to be enough. He knew that. He could only hope that Snow was ready. “No. Enough. We’re taking him.”
