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Chapter Thirty-three
Alia wrenched the gun from Sara’s hand before she could take the second shot. “That’s enough. You’ve had your fun. We’ve gotta go.” Alia hauled the girl to her feet and pushed her in the direction of the stairs. “His friends will be here soon. We need to get out while we still can.”
Joey lay curled and sobbing, no threat to them now. Blood poured from his head where Alia had pistol-whipped him, but it wouldn’t kill him. Nor would the wound in his hand. The one he’d held up trying to ward off the shot from Sara.
Noises of a TV screen crashing attracted Alia’s attention, and she watched the other two men grappling, punching… destroying her rec room. Evenly matched, the difference was that one fought for the right side and his training and brains drove his strategy.
But the other fought to win.
Sloan, pinned under the man whose hands were clawing at his throat, aimed a powerful punch into Roger’s side that broke his hold. Then he flipped him over and drove his fist into the prick’s face, the crunch of something breaking a satisfying sound.
Backing off, he turned when Alia called to him. “Let’s go.”
“You’re kidding, right? These two bozos broke into your house and assaulted an underage minor. We need to arrest the assholes.”
“Not gonna happen. It’s not how this works.” She grabbed Sara, who’d whipped around behind her and was wildly kicking Joey. “We need to get out before the others come to collect her.” She pushed a struggling, reluctant Sara in front of her, seizing her before she could aim yet another kick and headed up the stairs, an annoyed Sloan following.
“You’re law enforcement. You know better.”
“Be quiet. They don’t know I have a badge. And they can’t know. I’ll explain. Come on. Let’s just get Sara to safety.”
“Then we’ll talk?”
“Okay, fine.” She got to the kitchen door and looked out before she led Sara to the hidden entryway, Sloan bringing up the rear.
Before they could get to the car, Roger, hugely pissed but running on fear and hate, had gotten his gun, come up behind them and began firing. The first bullet went wild, but the second hit Sara and she went down.
“Goddammit!” Sloan reached for her and had her in his arms while Alia covered his exit. Then she ran to the car and opened the back door for him. “Get in.”
Sloan backed in with Sara wrapped in his arms, and Alia dived into the front seat. “Thank God you left the keys in the ignition.” She started the motor, heard the powerful roar and stepped on it, missing the concrete gate post with only inches to spare. A whimper from the back seat sounded in a male voice.
They skidded into the street and saw the headlights of another car coming towards them, beginning the turn into her driveway, only to stop and pick up Roger.
“Friggin’, shittin’ hell.”
“You can say that again.” A Sloan’s sarcastic tone let her know that once they escaped, he’d be asking her questions. A lot of questions…
“Friggin’, shittin’ hell.”
