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He caught her wrist and twisted it behind her back. A sharp bolt of pain shot through her injured shoulder.

She cried out.

Gwen spun toward them. “Get your hands off her!”

The masked man shoved Devon in front of him, using her as a shield.

Gwen stopped. Her weapon remained trained on the attacker.

“Let her go.”

The man pressed his pistol against Devon’s ribs.

“Drop it.” His deep voice sounded cold.

Gwen’s jaw tightened. “Not happening.”

“Then she dies.”

Devon’s heart slammed against her ribs.

She stared at Gwen. For one terrible second, neither woman moved. Gwen’s gaze shifted.

Just slightly.

Devon knew that look.

She’s telling you to find the opening.

The man holding her was focused on Gwen. Not Devon.

She dropped her weight and drove her elbow backward as hard as she possibly could.

He grunted. His pistol shifted away from her side.

Gwen fired, but the shot struck the wall beside the attacker as the man jerked Devon sideways. A growled curse filled her ears as he slammed her against the doorframe.

Pain exploded in her shoulder and head. Stars danced across her vision. Before Gwen could fire again, another masked man appeared behind her.

“Gwen!” Devon screamed.

The warning came just in time.

Gwen spun, firing as the attacker dove forward.

The two collided against the kitchen doorway. Devon couldn’t see what happened next.

Her captor dragged her through the mudroom and shoved open the exterior door. Cold air hit her face. The yard was a nightmare of scattered debris, broken glass, and drifting dust.

Somewhere in the near distance, gunfire erupted again. Draven shouted something Devon couldn’t understand.

Devon screamed as she fought like a woman possessed. Another masked man appeared beside a dark SUV parked along the gravel drive that curved behind the farmhouse.

“Hurry the hell up!”

Her captor dragged her flailing body toward the vehicle.

Devon twisted violently, trying to break free while also looking back through the mudroom door. The angle blocked her view of Blake, and she had no idea whether he was okay, or if he’d even moved.