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“Don’t hurt her.” He collapsed to his knees. His weight thumped hard on the floor of the plane.
She stared at him. Her hot whisper was raspy. “Don’t do this!”
“It’s me you want,” he grated out. “She didn’t do anything wrong. She saved Matthews.”
Cole looked between her and Jennings. Then he nodded for the biker to let her go. When he released her, she pitched forward onto her hands and knees. The guy poked his gun at Jennings’s chest.
No. No, no, no.She had to do something. Had to help the man she loved.
“You’re not going to get away with what you’ve done, Abel. You want justice, this is it.” Then Cole moved in on Jennings.
Heart hammering, Wren threw a wild look around. Then she saw the cargo net hanging from hooks on the wall, unused. Daring a quick glance to see if the Disciples were watching, she saw they weren’t and reached for the net.
In a few quick moves, she unhooked it. Jennings didn’t look her way, and for that she was grateful. If he gave away what she was doing, they’d kill her. Then she couldn’t save him.
The vice president fixed the gun barrel on Jennings’s head. “Ready to meet your maker?”
She didn’t give Jennings a chance to answer. She hurled the net over the man and leaped on his back. Her weight wasn’t enough to take him to the ground, but she wrapped her arm around his neck with all her strength.
* * * * *
Cole fell to his knees and threw Wren to the floor. Her fragile body bowed with the impact. She rolled, head lolling to the side.
A roar exploded from Jennings’s throat. In one maneuver, he leaped to his feet and threw all of his body weight at the man attacking his woman.
She was still fighting like a wild animal. The vicious kick she aimed at his jaw sent Cole’s head snapping backward. Blood poured out of his mouth.
Jennings snatched up his weapon and pumped a bullet into the other biker. Then he stomped on Cole’s neck, pinning him to the floor.
“Don’t fucking move,” he ground through his teeth. “I want you alive so you can sit and rot in a jail cell. But if you so much as blink, I will pull this trigger.”
Cole glared up at him. “Go ahead and shoot me.”
“Wren?”
“Y-yes?”
“Grab me one of those ratchet straps holding the bikes together. Bring it to me.”
He kept his gaze trained on his adversary but heard her whimper.
“Calm down, honey. Take your time unhooking the strap.”
When she worked the fastener open, the bike hit the floor with a crash. Bags of drugs spilled out of the gas tank.
He held out a hand and Wren placed the strap in it. “Can you hold the gun on him?” he asked her.
“I’d rather not!”
“Then you wrap that strap around him.” He jammed his boot into Cole’s neck until his eyes bulged. “Move and I’ll shoot you.”
He continued to glare at Jennings while Wren did as instructed.
“Slide that end through the fastener. That’s it, baby. You’re doing great. Now tighten it down.”
The noise of the ratchet being tightened mixed with the hum of the plane engine. The floor had spatters of blood that he prayed she didn’t notice. He didn’t want her freaking out at this altitude.
She gave the strap one last crank and then released a sigh. “That’s the tightest it goes.”
