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Any humanity she had seen in his eyes, any real emotion, suddenly ceased to exist.
And a crazed, inhuman look peered back at her. “You don’t have to like me or any part of me, but I’m not letting you get away like your mother did.” He shot a sideways glance at the gunman to his left. “Take her out to the car.”
Three of the men closed in on her, moving faster than she would have thought they could move with their size, but even with her skill at hand to hand, she knew she’d be hard pressed to hold them all off.
The first made the mistake of reaching out to her.
Cygny stepped into him and shot a hand up toward his bicep, finding a particularly painful pressure point with her thumb.
He dropped down to a knee and didn’t have the time or focus to deflect a swift kick to his groin muscle.
Someone behind her got a hold of her hair and pulled. She went with the momentum even as she grit her teeth against the pain and managed to snap her head backwards.
She wasn’t sure if she hit his nose or his chin, but either way the hand holding her hair was gone a moment later.
The third seemed to have a better grasp of the scene and stepped in as she fought for her balance. She saw the barrel of the gun pointed at her head and the look of determination of the man holding it. “Step back,” he gave her the order and she followed, taking a step away from him.
The second step back freed her of the area where the other men had fallen, struggling with pain. The gunman’s gaze drew down to the others. Whether they were friends or just worked together, it still had to be a shock to see how they were suffering.
“Raise your hands.”
Cygny did as he asked but even she was shocked at what happened next.
Mister Samuels, who had seemed just an affable man until that point, launched himself at the man’s arm.
The gunman fired a shot which flew wide by inches, but before she could step forward to help him, the last armed man in the room fired a shot.
Mister Samuels stumbled forward and onto the man he’d been wrestling with.
Cygny closed the gap as the two fell down to the once pristine floor and managed to grab onto his arm, lowering the weapon.
He twisted and turned trying to shake her loose. He’d apparently paid attention to what she had done to the first man who’d come close enough for her to touch.
The struggle over his weapon didn’t last long and almost ended when he cracked his forehead against hers, but Cygny’s mother had always said she’d had a hard head. The sudden impact tipped the world from side to side, but didn’t allow the man to pull his hand free. She kept one hand on his, fighting to keep his finger from the trigger, the other hand was only able to rake through his skin until his cuff.
“Motherfu-”
CRACK.
He never did get out the rest of his curse. Something left a hole in his forehead above his eyebrow and he felt back to the floor.
Cygny went down beside him, her hands reaching for the gun in his almost lifeless hand, but even as the pool of blood widened around his head, his fingers had a death grip on his pistol.
“Cygny?”
She turned her head as he wrenched the gun from the guard’s hand and saw Leo leaning heavily against the wall, his gun now trained on Nicholas at the front of the room.
He was red and shaking from the cold, but the hand that held the pistol was rock steady.
“Leo.” She almost sobbed his name, but barely managed to hold herself together.
“Get up.” His jaw was quivering from the cold. “Come to me.”
Cygny got to her feet and turned to see Mister Samuels sprawled out on the floor his face an empty mask. He’d died trying to help her, the only one to try. His guard and another were standing off to the side, their hands visible away from their bodies.
“You,” Helena’s voice sounded like venom from a snake, “were supposed to die out there.”
“There’s no way,” Leo coughed and cleared his throat, “I’d leave Cygny like that.”
Just a few steps away from Leo’s side, Cygny was all but lifted from her feet.
She could smell the heavy hand of Nicholas’ cologne and the hard press of his fingers against her side.
“I’m not letting you go.”
She kicked, managing to score a swipe on one of his legs, before he tightened his arm around her middle, pushing her diaphragm up into her ribs. He splayed his other hand around her neck and squeezed tight, making the edges of her vision darken.
The gun slipped from her hand and clattered onto the floor.
“Go ahead,” Nicholas taunted Leo, “take your shot, but I don’t think you’re in any condition to make a hit that doesn’t drill right through her. Or do you love her enough to let her go with me.”
She lifted up her hands, trying to pull his fingers from her throat, but she was weakening quickly. And she could see the way Leo was shaking from the cold.
‘Do it.’ She tried to send the thought to him but knew it was just wishful thinking. ‘Do it. You have to.’
Cygny could see the strain in Leo’s body, but she could also see the pain and anguish in his eyes. If he let her go, they both knew that she wouldn’t live long.
Even if he was her father he wasn’t a man who could stomach betrayal and she’d not only gone against him, she’d tried to put him in federal jail.
This had to end here.
