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So he’d been played for a fool, falling for a woman who had used him. “What happened, Spurrier? She throw you over for someone more her age?”
Spurrier’s lips pulled into a snarl. “She thought she would expose me. Me!” He hooked a thumb at his chest in rage while flames started crawling around the arch to the hallway, framing his head. “She became confused and …”
“You killed her.” Damn, but Trent hadn’t even had Spurrier on his radar until tonight, until he’d read Lynch’s files.
“I killed no one, you Cretin!”
“‘Course not,” Trent said, coughing. “You’re a coward! You sent one of your crazy followers to take care of it for you.”
“You don’t know anything!” Spurrier raged.
“So where’s her body, huh?”
The heat was intense, flames soaring, smoke roiling upward. Tr
ent could barely breathe.
“Her death was an accident.”
“Come on, man! This is insane!” Zach was heading for the kitchen and the back door as the front entrance was now engulfed, the heat sweltering.
“A convenient accident. Right,” Trent mocked, goading the egomaniacal bastard. “She tossed you over and you killed her. You’re no great leader, Spurrier, just another idiot whose woman dumped him. Maybe she didn’t want to be with a hypocritical killer. Probably found a better lover.”
“You idiot. You’ve got it all wrong!” Spurrier swung his foot back and kicked, hard. The toe of his boot was aimed straight for Trent’s face.
Trent rolled.
Heavy leather bashed into his shoulder. “Ooof!”
He wrapped his hands and arms around Spurrier’s pant leg and threw his weight the opposite direction.
The pilot hopped once, then fell, landing hard on his back.
Thud!
The house rocked.
Flames shimmied.
Spurrier sent up a howl of pain.
Trent flung himself upward and rolled atop the pilot. Balling a fist, he let fly, smashing Spurrier’s jaw, jarring his own hand, the two of them wrestling over broken glass and flames.
“Oh, shit! Oh, shit, oh, shit!” Bernsen edged through the archway and leveled his rifle at the two of them. “Stop it! Let him go! Holy goddamned shit!”
Trent ignored the TA and his damned weapon. Furious, his fists punching wildly, he straddled Spurrier as he would have a fifteen-hundred-pound Brahman bull.
“Get him off me!” Spurrier ordered, eyes rolling toward his minion.
Trent slammed his fist into Spurrier’s nose.
Crack!
Bones splintered. Cartilage became mush.
Blood sprayed from Spurrier’s nostrils.
The pilot writhed and screamed.
