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Kirby’s eyes lit up. “Why don’t we hide in a shed, and when he comes looking, jump him?”

I wasn’t sold on the idea of backing ourselves into a corner we might not escape from. “He could put a bullet in one of us before we make the distance.”

Ava stared at nothing, presumably listening for sounds coming from inside the house. Then her shoulders straightened, and her eyes met mine. “You know what? I want my shoes back, my pickaxe—and I want that car as compensation for him being a murdering creep.”

As she stepped out from behind the building and onto the gravel, the breeze whipped her hair out behind her, and any chance of talking ended.

Kirby stuck close to her side, wincing as her feet adjusted to the new surface.

The stones bit into my feet as I fell in beside them, my gaze jumping from one spot to another. Wind swept through the paddocks, pushing the long grass sideways. Nothing else moved in any direction, and all I heard was my own ragged breathing.

I had no clue how Ava planned on taking down a man with a gun. All that lay ahead of us was open ground. No trees for cover—and a long driveway between us and the road.

I moved ahead and cleared the front corner of the house first, then jumped back behind the wall again, herding them with me.

He was there, standing on the top step of the verandah.

“Damn,” he said. “Sorry, mate. Ruined your hiding spot.”

Ava stayed close to me. “If he puts the pressure on, we scatter in different directions. Give him three targets instead of one.”

His footsteps crunched over gravel, slow and methodical. I scanned the area for something—anything—that might give us an edge.

“While you two scatter, I’ll run at him,” I said. “Give me the shovel.”

Our fingers overlapped as Ava handed it to me, and I rubbed my thumb over hers, wondering if we’d all make it out of here alive.

How many rounds did Jeremy have in the gun? Had he used it to kill the owners?

Ava inhaled a soft breath, nodding as if trying to convince herself. “It’s the best plan,” she said. “We can do this.”

“I’m heading straight into the house.” Kirby bounced on the spot, locked in and ready. “Even if I just go out the back again. He’ll lose his shit not being able to track us all.”

“Be safe.” I’d run out of time to say more.

Jeremy came around the corner, keeping wide, staying far enough back that we couldn’t rush him. He’d thrown on the dirty boots from the foyer, the laces hanging loose.

“You suck at this game,” he said. “Thought for sure you’d run to one of the sheds.”

“I’m more of a confront-the-situation-head-on kind of guy.” I gripped the shovel, calculating how hard I’d need to throw it to cover the distance between us.

Jeremy’s eyes hardened as he looked me over. “Now see this finger? See where it’s resting, mate? Try anything with that shovel, and I’m taking your head off.”

The only way this would end was with him dead or incapacitated—and I’d heard enough of his fucking yapping. I adjusted my stance, giving Ava and Kirby space to break free and run. My stomach tensed, and I took in every micro-expression on his face.

“Come on, guys,” he said, flipping straight back to his easygoing facade. “I could have shot you all before you even ran out the back door, but I’m being nice. Why don’t we go back inside and sort this out?”

“No,” Ava said.

The corners of his mouth pulled tight, and his trigger finger flexed. When he lifted the rifle higher and aimed, Ava moved. Fast. Onto the grass, just like we’d talked about. Rather than keeping a straight line, she wove without uttering a word or a scream.

“I’m off.” Kirby ran past him before he could react, racing up the steps and onto the verandah.

“Get back here.” Jeremy turned one way, then the other.

Kirby disappeared inside the house as the ducks flapped their wings and walk-flew out of harm’s way.

While Jeremy was distracted, I took my chance and swung the shovel, hitting him across the midsection with enough force to wind him. A breath squeaked from him, and he staggered backward onto the damp grass, right near the steps where Kirby had just run. One arm flailed while the other tried to keep hold of the rifle, but it wasn’t enough.