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“He’s in Mexico?” Jacob’s eyes squinted and his hands fisted at his sides as he sneered. His chest heaved in angry breaths.
“Yes. Getting ass fucked as we speak.” Preacher poked the bear. “And from what I hear, he loves it.”
“What?!” Jacob roared, spittle flying.
“He’s Senorita Maria’s newest attraction. I hear he’s very popular.”
“You—” Jacob didn’t finish as all hell broke loose.
The sounds of shouting and gunshots coming from upstairs told Race his men had breeched the cabin.
* * *
How the helldid things spiral out of control so quickly? Charlotte was debating hightailing it out the front door and leaving on foot if she had to. Ever since those idiots came back with Bellamy and Race’s daughter, she’d had a bad feeling. Getting rid of Bellamy was one thing. Anything happening to Race’s daughter was another.
His daughter had been right. Just because Charlotte was a woman didn’t mean she was safe from Race’s wrath. How did she let Jacob convince her that kidnapping Bellamy was a good idea? She should have just run her over with her car when she caught the woman out somewhere. Or gotten one of the Phantom Furies that had started coming into Bottom’s Up to take her out.
She shivered as goose bumps danced across her skin. She absently rubbed at her arms in an effort to chase away the chill. Was it a warning of things to come? Was it her subconscious telling her she was doomed no matter which way she turned? She flinched when she hit a tender spot. Looking down, she found finger-sized bruises on her arm from where Jacob grabbed her.
She was trying to fade into the shadows, not wanting to draw attention to herself. The longer Race and Jacob talked, the more her sense of unease grew. She racked her brain trying to figure a way out of this that ended with her still breathing. As far as she could tell, her only shot would be making sure Liza and, begrudgingly, Bellamy, got out of this alive. Despite how much she disliked the woman, being sold into sexual slavery was not cool. A sudden thought occurred to her. Would Jacob try and sell her into a life of sexual slavery, too?
Shit. She had to do something to stop this before it went any further.
Spying a heavy wooden statue of a cowboy on a bucking bronco, she picked it up and slowly made her way behind Andrew. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do, but figured when the time came, she’d figure it out.
At the sound of men shouting and guns shooting upstairs, she watched Andrew raise his gun and point it toward Race. She moved from behind Andrew and brought the heavy statue down on his arm, knocking his aim off. As he screamed at her and looked like he would turn the gun on her, she took the statue and brought it up under his chin, knocking his head back. He landed on the floor in a heap, his gun skittering across the floor, ending halfway between him and Bellamy.
18
“Get down!” Bellamy shouted at the same time she pushed Liza to the floor. She lay half on top of the girl watching the scene play out in front of her. Chaos. Complete chaos.
Everyone was racing for cover. Race and Trick dove behind a half wall, while Jackson dove behind one couch and Preacher rolled toward another.
Lawrence and one of Jacob’s men who had come downstairs to wait for Race’s arrival and guard their cage raced toward the bar, dragging Jacob between them. Lawrence shot off round after round as cover fire. Bottles of alcohol behind the bar shattered, raining booze and glass down on top of them as they ducked behind it.
Taking a quick glance at Andrew, Bellamy spotted the gun Charlotte had knocked loose. Praying Andrew stayed unconscious long enough for her to get the gun, she eased away from Liza long enough to snag the gun.Got it!Clutching it tightly in her hand, she turned and motioned for Liza to make her way toward the pool table. “Stay down and move!”
Liza didn’t need to be told twice. Still on her stomach, she used her arms to pull herself to safety. Bellamy started to scramble behind her until a hard jerk of her leg stopped her from moving forward. Looking over her shoulder, she found Andrew’s beefy hand shackled tightly around her ankle.
“Where do you think you’re going, bitch?” he growled, his chin bleeding from where Charlotte had hit him with the statue.
Rolling to her side, she used her free leg to try and kick at his head, hoping he’d turn her loose.Damn it!She growled in aggravation when he grabbed her other ankle, flipped her to her back and pinned her to the floor. For a stout man, he moved quickly. He was up and straddling her legs before she could register what he was going to do, making it impossible for her to use them. He reached behind his back, under his suit jacket and pulled out a large sharp knife, the light glinting off the shiny steel.
A sinister smile split his face. “No need for you now that Jacob got what he wanted.” He flipped the knife so that he could get a better grip for his downward thrust.
Bang!
“I don’t think so, motherfucker.” She rolled to the side as his body tipped forward to avoid being pinned under his dead weight. She’d hit him dead center in the chest with one shot. She pushed and shoved, straining under his dead weight trying to get her legs free. Holy shit, the man was heavy.
Once she was free, she lay on her back, struggling to catch her breath. She had the hand holding her gun on her stomach while the free hand flopped out to the side. She squeaked as someone grabbed her wrist and dragged her across the floor as if she weighed nothing.
“Don’t shoot. It’s me,” Jackson warned her before she turned the gun on him. He pulled her behind the pool table and did a quick scan to see if she’d been hit by any stray bullets. “You good?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Jackson.”
With a grunt he turned to take a quick look around the corner of the pool table, satisfied she was fine.
“You okay, Liza?” Bellamy’s hands moved quickly up and down her arms, then cupped her face gently. Her eyes were wide in her pale face.
