I slipped forward undetected, and he jolted when he finally noticed me a second before I drove the knife into his gut.
I jerked the blade to the side to spill him out.
The other dropped his phone and started to whirl, and I whipped the knife, slashing deep into his arm.
“Motherfucker, you’re dead,” he wheezed in shock, stumbling back.
“Nah,” I hissed, and I cocked my arm back and threw the knife before he found solid ground.
It flew, meeting its mark at the front of his neck.
He dropped like a boulder.
A decimated thud.
And I knew there was no longer any concealing my presence, so I grabbed both guns and kicked in the door they were guarding.
Ready to rush into the room in a blaze of glory, only I froze when I found the scene inside.
Heart dropping to the floor.
Brinley.
Bound and on her knees. A gag in her mouth. Beautiful hair tangled and matted with dirt and blood.
One eye black and swollen shut.
The other begged a desperate plea.
Dereck was on the other side of her.
In the same position.
His entire face was busted to shit. Gaping cuts on his lip, temple, and cheek.
A wound leaked from his side and soaked his clothes in blood.
But in his eyes?
In them was relief. His trust inme.
Except I wasn’t feeling so relieved when I found Kent Ellison casually standing over the top of them like a complete showdown wasn’t raging outside.
Hair styled and wearing a designer suit.
Smug smirk on his face like he’d already won.
Three men with machine guns strapped across their chests stood guard behind him, and he had his own gun held at the side of Brinley’s head.
“Drop your guns or she goes,” Kent gritted.
I wanted to rush him. Throw myself on top of Brinley. A living shield who would gladly die to protect the treasure.
But I had to play this smart.
Careful.
I heaved out a strained breath, and my hands fucking shook as I tossed them to the floor three feet in front of me.
