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She was alive. Standing in her underwear, blood streaked across her abdomen, her arm, she was in a defensive position, fists up. Horror screamed through him.
Seth was holding something that gleamed in the firelight. A knife. Brian ached to blow a hole through him, but Charlie was in the way.
Colvin and Eklund both had guns drawn.
Brian wanted to leap into action that very second, but he needed to give Kent a chance to get into position on the other side of the barn. Otherwise, one of them might shoot her.
“If you don’t get her to talk, I will,” said the man with the ugly scar. “I’m rather good at it. Taking fingers. Toes. I guarantee once she smells her own flesh burning, she’ll tell me all her secrets.”
Tension knotted in Brian’s chest, his heart throbbing like an open wound. He had to prevent that man from ever touching her and get her out of there.
Charlie threw a punch, her fist hitting Seth’s jaw.
The big guy staggered back. “You’re going to talk, so help me, even if I have to break every bone in your body.” He kicked her in the gut, slamming her backward down onto the ground.
Waiting any longer wasn’t an option. Brian took aim on the guy with the scar. He was the closest armed man to him and the scariest. His police training had taught him to go for center mass. But Special Forces had taught him sometimes you only had one shot to eliminate a threat. On an exhale, he squeezed the trigger.
A shot to the head. The man dropped.
But everyone else spun around, now on alert.
Quickly, he shot at Colvin, who was moving. Two bullets hit him. One in the arm. The other in the shoulder.
As Colvin aimed to return fire, Brian caught a glimpse of Charlie. She rammed the heel of her foot into Seth’s groin and kicked the knife from his hand right before Brian took cover.
Bullets bit into the barn not far from his head.
On the other side of the building, gunfire erupted.Kent.
Ducking low, Brian darted out. Locked Colvin in his sights. Fired. The detective took one to the chest, lurched back and fell to the ground.
Seth pulled a gun and snatched Charlie by her hair, yanking her up in front of him. He hauled her back to the barn door. Flung it open. Dragged her inside at gunpoint.
Busy firing at Kent, Eklund hunkered down behind the stone firepit. He was too big to fully conceal himself, but a tree blocked Brian’s line of sight for a clear shot.
Kent maneuvered off to the side behind a tractor.
“Cover me!” Brian called out, grateful for the extra ammo he’d given to him.
His partner squeezed off rounds, keeping Eklund pinned down and unable to shoot back.
Taking the small opening, Brian ran to the barn door and slipped inside. He stopped cold.
Seth had an arm curled around Charlie’s throat, his gun pressed to back of her skull, her body shielding his. “Drop it. Or she’s dead.”
“Don’t do it,” Charlie said.
“I’ve had enough of you!” Seth growled, tightening his hold until she gasped.
Outside more gunfire was exchanged. Brian hoped that Kent could wear down Eklund, getting him to run out of ammo and then neutralize him.
Seth shifted the muzzle of his gun from the back of Charlie’s head, jamming it against her temple. “Unless you want to see her brains splattered across the wall, you’ll drop it.”
Fury like Brian had never experienced surged inside him. Instead of suppressing it, he let it fill him, fuel him. If there was going to be a hostage, it would be him. He’d trade places with Charlie. His life for hers. He was willing to make any sacrifice. But first he made a solemn vow. “Hurt her again, and I will kill you.”
“No, you won’t,” Seth said. “Not while I have her.”
The gunfire outside stopped. Either Eklund or Kent was dead.
