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“No.”
“What the fuck, Slash?” Max almost roared in his frustration.
“We do both. One rider will shoot up the ramp and hit that door hard, knock it right off its hinges.”
“That’s me,” Max said firmly before Rafe could volunteer.
“Assuming you get through alive, you’ll need a gun.”
He nodded and pulled a nine-millimeter automatic from his belt. “Saved for special occasions.” Rafe was packing as well.
Slash smiled. “Clutch, I’m going to crawl inside that plastic garbage can by the loading dock. Rafe and Choirboy are going to throw me through the window. The idea is for me to hit the window at the same time Max hits the door. If Brad hesitates, we’ll be inside and one or the other of us might have a chance to take him out.”
“We can do that,” Clutch said.
“It should be me going in there,” said Rafe with a severe frown.
“I get it, man, but I’m better at this than you are. Computers are your strength, and knives are mine.” Slash pulled his knife from his boot. “We don’t have a lot of time, children. The cops are going to be showing up a lot sooner than we’d like with their hostage negotiator. Shall we start this dance?”
Max held out a hand. “Thanks, brother.”
Slash laughed. “Don’t thank me. You’re the idiot most likely to get shot. I’m just taking a ride in a garbage can so I can be there to clean up the mess. Now go see if you can remember how to start your ride.”
Simone layon the floor tasting her own blood. He’d hit her with the pistol when she laughed at him. She couldn’t afford to let him think she thought he was safe in the office, so she’d mocked him. The rage kept spitting out as he’d slapped her a brutal blow. Part of the blood came from a cut in her mouth, but blood was running down her face, too. Her hair was sticky with it, and a numb spot on her forehead defined the spot where he’d hit her with the revolver.
Despite being dizzy, her mind raced as she tried to keep a clear vision of the situation.
Brad was desperate to rape her. Even now when he knew there was no escape, he would try to complete his revenge. He was distracted by the arrival of the bikers, and she had a moment to breathe. She had to focus, use her training to keep her attention on what was going on, not let herself get distracted by emotions. She wanted Brad focused on her and not what Rafe and Max might be up to. Her only hope was to give them time.
Unless she saw a chance to get the gun. The thought intruded, but her training was still working. If she could get her hands on it…
Don’t focus on the weapon. It is a distraction. Consider the attacker.
Despite sneering at the idea that the bikers could get in the office, Brad obviously was worried they’d interrupt him. He kicked off his shoes and pointed his gun at her. “They ain’t stopping my fun.”
“Fun?” She grabbed the desk and used it to get unsteadily to her feet.
“Get back on the ground, bitch.”
“Fuck off, Brad. What are you going to do if I don’t? Shoot me? Then how would you get your fun?”
“I can beat the shit out of you and then do it.”
“You said you wanted me conscious, big man. Where’s the fun in fucking me when I don’t even know it? Is that what your revenge is going to amount to?”
She saw his anger rising again. Now it was beginning to alternate with panic. He wanted his revenge. His anger gave him blinders, but even so, he saw his plan was going wrong, and that made him even angrier. And now, with her friends outside, the fear of getting caught was there too.
She had no idea what Rafe and Max planned—all she knew was that if nothing happened to intervene, the best outcome was that she’d get raped.
So she had to change that.
She felt bitter hatred for Brad at that moment. She’d done nothing to this man, and he was doing everything he could to ruin her life in every way—physically, emotionally, and financially. He’d even gone after her baby sister. She let herself feel that hate and focused it. He was still uncertain how beaten down she might be. She’d bought herself enough respect to make him hesitate. She’d paid dearly for it, but now, as much as he wanted to jump on her, he moved cautiously.
For her part, she needed to keep enough distance so she could trade blows with him effectively. If he got his arms around her…
They faced off, and he circled her. She wanted more than anything to melt through the floor, but it wasn’t going to happen. A look of astonishment crossed his face, and he pointed the gun at her. “All I need to do is put a bullet in you, bitch. Just a nice bullet in the leg. That’ll keep you busy.”
Suddenly the room exploded. In a single moment, the window shattered, sending shards of broken glass showering over them. She felt the glass cutting into her skin. Brad roared and turned as the door blew inward while a motorcycle came incongruously into the room.
