She leans toward me and whispers, “I’m gonna follow him.”
I keep my eyes on the room. “Go.”
Brooke slips back into the hallway and follows John at a distance. She moves close enough to keep him in sight, far enough that he won’t feel her presence until she wants him to.
I step into the room without drawing attention to it. My pistol is already in my hand with the suppressor threaded on the barrel. Sound carries too easily in a place like this, and every second we waste inside this house increases the chances someone comes looking.
The masked men don’t notice me right away. Their attention stays fixed on the girl. The men stand around her as if she is a centerpiece.
That arrogance is about to kill them.
I raise the pistol and fire twice.
The first shot hits the closest man in the upper chest. His body jerks backward and the knife in his hand drops before he can lift it. The second man takes the next round a fraction of a second later. The bullet punches through his sternum and drives him back a step before he collapses.
The suppressed shots are short and controlled, but the room changes immediately.
The third man snaps his head toward me. He tries to pivot, tries to bring the knife up, and tries to move around the girl without stepping on her.
He’s too slow.
I close the distance and grab him by the head.
My hands clamp against both sides of the mask and I twist with everything I have. His neck gives under the pressure. The break runs through my arms and into my hands as the vertebrae snap. His body loses strength instantly and drops against me before sliding to the floor.
The fourth man comes at me without thinking.
He charges across the room with the knife raised and his weight thrown forward. The swing is wide and desperate. The blade catches the fabric of my sleeve and cuts through the cloth without reaching skin.
I step into him instead of backing away.
My shoulder slams into his chest and drives him into the wall. The impact forces the air out of his lungs in a harsh grunt. His knife arm drops just enough.
I drive my blade into his abdomen.
The knife sinks deep beneath his ribs and I feel the resistance of muscle give as the steel pushes through. His body stiffens and a strangled sound pushes through the mask.
I pull the blade free and stab him again.
The second thrust lands higher. His body jerks once and then the strength drains out of him. The knife slips from his hand and hits the floor with a dull clatter while he slides down the wall.
I step away from him and turn to the girl.
She’s shaking so hard the symbol beneath her looks like it’s moving. Her face is wet with tears. Her mouth opens, but she can’t get words out.
“Stay still,” I tell her. “You’re safe now.”
She nods fast, terrified, trying to obey.
I crouch beside her and cut the restraints quickly, guiding the blade so it never touches her skin. The ropes fall away from her wrists first. The skin there is raw and swollen from the pressure. Her breathing comes in uneven pulls as her body tries to recover from panic.
She curls inward, arms folding toward her chest as if she can make herself smaller.
“Look at me, stand up,” I whisper. “You need to move.”
She pushes herself to her feet and sways. Her entire body shakes hard enough that her teeth knock together.
“Go downstairs,” I point toward the hallway. “Beau will help you.”
