Page 72 of Unmasked

His hands shook, heart thudding heavily in his chest as he slipped into the vest he kept in the back of his SUV. He approached on foot, cutting through the lightly wooded area at the edge of the road at a jog. He slowed his pace as a small black sedan came into view, anxiety twisting his stomach into knots. Pistol drawn, he approached the car warily. The tinted windows obscured the interior, but a peek inside told him the inhabitants were long gone.

He pulled his phone from his back pocket, eyes glued to the insignia on the rear bumper. Snapping a photo of the license plate, he shot it off to Cade.

Hot fury raced through his veins. Worry, fear, and anger mingled together, threatening to explode, and he forced it down. He needed to get to Everleigh, needed to make sure she was okay. The deputies couldn’t be far behind; at least, he hoped they weren’t.

Overhead, thunder boomed, and he glanced up at the darkening sky. He broke into a run, quickly covering the half-mile to the house. Rain began to fall, lightly at first, then harder as he raced toward home. As soon as he reached the tree line, he drew to a halt and cast a quick glance around.

Raindrops fell heavily, saturating the ground and dotting the driveway with small puddles, but everything else was quiet. He scanned the muddy ground but saw no footprints. He hoped that meant they were still in the house.

Keeping low, he ran across the driveway, the crunch of gravel beneath his feet drowned out by the pummel of rain hitting the earth. Quickly but quietly, he mounted the porch steps, careful to stay away from the windows. He crouched low, then risked a peek inside the window.

His breath caught when he saw Everleigh, her face drawn tight with fear. Her hands were bound in front of her, and she threw a glance to the side as something—or someone—moved off to the right. His heart jumped into his throat as he watched Fletcher approach, pistol in one hand, a duffel bag in the other. He tossed the duffel to the floor, then lifted the gun toward Everleigh.

She flinched visibly, face contorting in fear as he stroked her cheek with the muzzle of the compact gun. From inside the house, Knox could hear the murmur of voices as they spoke, but he couldn’t make out the words. With every second that passed, his ire grew. He knew he had to wait for the right moment; the last thing he wanted was for Fletcher to accidentally pull the trigger and put Everleigh—and their baby—in jeopardy.

Fletcher laughed, long and loud, then turned abruptly. Knox quickly ducked away from the window, hoping he hadn’t gotten a glimpse of him. When it fell silent for a moment, he peered through the lower corner of the window once more. Fletcher had moved away from Everleigh, out of his field of view. He could only imagine that he meant to abduct her. Too bad for him, Knox would never let her go that easily.

Maneuvering to his feet, he braced himself in front of the door, then delivered a kick that splintered the wood in its frame. He shoved the door open with one hand, leveling the pistol at Fletcher with the other. Eyes wide with fear, Fletcher grabbed Everleigh and tugged her in front of him, using her as a human shield.

“Let her go, Montgomery.”

The coward laughed as he held the pistol to her head. “I’ll kill her before I let you have her.”

Everleigh trembled, and Knox fought to keep his attention trained on her idiot ex. “Can’t let that happen.”

He pressed the muzzle more firmly to her temple, eliciting a sharp cry of fear from Everleigh. “Put the gun down or she dies.”

Knox wasn’t nearly stupid enough to gamble Everleigh’s life, so he relaxed his stance, holding his hands up in acquiescence. “Let’s just relax.” He bent low and set the pistol at his feet. “There. Now, let her go.”

Montgomery stared at him, a slow smile spreading over his face. “No. I don’t think I will.”

Relief filled Knox as Montgomery lifted the pistol away from Everleigh. In the blink of an eye, he found himself staring at the end of the muzzle. There was a tiny flash of light, and pain ripped across his side as Montgomery pulled the trigger.

CHAPTER

FORTY-FIVE

She thought she screamed, but she couldn't tell over the rushing of blood in her ears, drowning out everything around her. She saw the kick of the pistol in Fletcher’s hand, felt the recoil as it vibrated through his body and into hers. Her heart constricted, and horror washed over her as agony ripped across Knox’s face. He staggered backward, then collapsed against the wall at his back and slid to the ground.

“No!” She fought Fletcher’s hold, hysteria quickly rising and threatening to take over. Lifting her foot, she dug her heel into the top of his foot as hard as she could. Her range of motion was limited with her hands bound together in front of her, but she used every ounce of strength she possessed as she drove her elbow into his stomach. Satisfaction ripped through her when he let out a grunt of pain.

“You bitch!” Fletcher fisted one hand in her hair with a low growl, and tears sprang to her eyes. “I should kill you for that.”

He shoved her roughly away from him, and she fell to her hands and knees on the floor.

“Everleigh, run!”

Knox’s voice met her ears, and she threw a look over her shoulder at him. He’d managed to grab his gun, and his eyes implored her to do as he said.

“Go!”

She flinched as the sound of gunfire filled the air. She wasn't entirely sure what happened next. Fletcher pitched forward just as another series of shots rang out, mingling with the shattering glass of a window exploding somewhere.

Fletcher threw himself out of the line of fire, and she awkwardly scrambled to her feet. She whirled toward the kitchen, looking for the back door, but Fletcher blocked her way. Spinning abruptly, she started to take a step toward where he'd fallen by the door, but a set of strong fingers wrapped around her ankle. Fletcher pulled hard, trying to yank her down with him, and she hit the floor with a thud.

Pain radiated through her body as her kneecap smashed into the hardwood floor, but she managed to get her hands out in front of her in time to keep her face from slamming against the wood. She kicked at Fletcher, finally managing to get free and clamber to her feet.

Fletcher was climbing unsteadily to his feet behind her, the fire of retribution burning in his eyes. With the only thought in her mind to get away from him, she darted down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. She slammed the door to Knox’s room then threw the lock, glancing around frantically, trying to order her thoughts. She needed a phone. She needed to call for help, and she needed to stop Fletcher.