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I grabbed a handful of hair, my heart feeling as if might explode with worry. What had she gotten into? Why didn’t she scream or run for me? Did the Grandmaster kidnap her right out from under me?
The next logical explanation was too hard to consider.
She left on her own.
Why would a woman run from the man trying to protect her?
I sprinted to the living room and slid on the floor, reaching underneath the couch to grab the gun I stashed there our first day. I was out the front door after another wasted second of slipping on the closest pair of shoes—damn pink flip-flops—and paused momentarily on the sidewalk, glancing both directions.
“Fuck. Fuck.”
Where would Hazel go? She didn’t have a vehicle or know her way around town. If someone from the Grandmaster’s regime took her, where’d they try to hide her?
A scream ripped through the quiet and I darted to the left, running around the house to the backyard. I don’t make it far before, on the edge of the tree line, I spotted the struggle. Hazel grappled with a man twice her size in height and build.
It didn’t tell me how Hazel ended up outside the house, but rescuing her was the only thing that mattered. I stood my ground and lined up my shot, not wanting to risk Hazel with a bullet. Cyrus and I practiced shooting often, but one body twisted in front and then back again. It wasn’t the same situation as shooting at the range.
Then sensing I’d entered the fight, the man grabbed Hazel and dragged her body in front of his. He held her in place with a set of huge meaty arms. I couldn’t take the shot. Not without possibly injuring Hazel. I refused to risk it.
I relaxed my stance from aiming, and my head ripped to the side. Something heavy and metal bit into my face, pushing me sideways.
“Corbin!” Hazel screamed. Her hand reached through the inky night to reach me, but feet separated us. The giant’s hold on her didn’t relent. She screamed out again, and a sob tore through her throat.
Of all the times I’d expected Hazel to break down, and she hadn’t, now she cried over our predicament. She hadn’t worried until I’d been the one to go against a weapon and risked my life.
The barrel of the gun hit my head again and stayed there. “Put down your weapon or I’ll shoot you both,” said a voice with enough malice I knew he spoke the truth. The Grandmaster’s men had killed before and would again.
I did as he said, bending over slowly to leave the gun on the ground. The man behind me threw his hand against my back, forcing me to step forward until I stood next to Hazel and her kidnapper.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching out to grab my hand. “This is my fault.”
I took it and squeezed her fingers tight. She had no reason to be upset. I had failed her. “This isn’t your fault, Hazel. How did they get you out of the house?”
The two of us walked together hand in hand as we were led into the woods with one kidnapper in front of us and one behind. I’d given up control of my weapon to save Hazel’s life and I had no hand-to-hand combat experience, so I had to assess the situation quickly before we made it to the final destination and lost our chance of escape.
Hazel released another sob before she sputtered out her answer. “I heard you on the phone with the Grandmaster when you offered to kill me for free.”
I stopped walking immediately. Her words were so earth-shattering I couldn’t make one foot step in front of the other. “Babe.” It was the only response I had the ability to make.
How could she believe I’d ever work against her?
“Keep walking,” the man behind us said, shoving his gun in the middle of my back and then doing the same to Hazel until she stumbled over her own feet from the pressure.
I stepped between the two of them, holding my hand out and leveling him with a look I’d back up if pressed. “Don’t touch my girl, Thumbs.”
I wasn’t giving him a rude nickname. I’d memorized the top players in the Grandmaster’s organization from a list provided by Ridge. Thumbs had one of those easy-to-remember faces. I’d be able to pick it out from a crowd in under a second. The man’s nose was so crooked it tilted a full ten degrees to the left, but his most discerning features were the lack of both thumbs. The story said he’d lost them during a nasty interrogation from a rival gang on the streets of Chicago.
In the past I’d never taken the time to research the Grandmaster, but since meeting Hazel I’d learned everything about him. He’d never operated on the coast until now.
The man with the missing thumbs stared as I held Hazel behind me. “Touch her and I’ll make sure your death is messy.” It was a promise I’d see through until I took my last breath from my body.
He laughed, only seeing me for the man I portrayed to the world. “Those are some tough words for a man without a gun.”
What he didn’t understand was that I didn’t need a gun to win this battle. I had a Drake. From the moment I took Hazel’s case, Drake knew he had one goal in life—to keep the pretty redhead alive. It didn’t matter if I made it out of these woods. Drake would ensure Hazel did.
I turned around to face the same direction as Hazel and we continued to walk further into the woods, but that didn’t stop me from talking. Thumbs wasn’t a gang member someone trusted with an operation of this magnitude. He was a grunt worker. No way he had control of the event happening around Hazel.
“I talked to your boss tonight,” I said, keeping my steps level, so I didn’t miss the way his stumbled in the leaves. “He swears he doesn’t have men in Maine. The Grandmaster had no idea what I was talking about and said he didn’t peddle woman or deal with men who do. Why do you think he said that?”
