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“Jesus, Huck,” he said.
Then, I watched as a man climbed the stairs without looking back. The gun in his hand made me whimper. He was going to kill someone. Possibly me.
A large hand wrapped around my arm, and I winced as I was pulled away from the wall.
“Easy, Trinity,” he said, close to my ear.
He knew my name. How did he know my name? I turned my head slowly until my eyes locked with the most unique color I’d ever seen. Was that what people referred to as cornflower blue? Why was I even thinking about this man’s eye color at a time like this?
“Do you remember me?” his deep voice asked.
I blinked, then let my gaze take in the rest of his features. The strong jawline, defined angles, the … oh my God. Huck. The other guy had called him Huck. It had been six months since the day in the church when Hayes’s brother had walked into the prayer room and stood up to Tabitha.
I swallowed nervously and nodded my head.
“Don’t fight me,” he warned. “You’ve got to get out of this house. I’m going to get you to safety, but I need you to trust me.”
Trust him? I was gagged, and my hands were tied behind my back.
Hayes had never spoken of a brother. That had bothered me. I was now beginning to understand why he hadn’t mentioned Huck.
Huck was a criminal.
I nodded, not because I trusted him, but because I knew I had no other choice. The other man with him had no reason to help me. However, the determined look in Huck’s eyes gave me a shred of security. I’d been his brother’s fiancée. Was that enough for him to keep me alive?
He took my arm with one of his hands, and in his other hand was a gun. I followed him as we walked back through the house. There was no sign of life.
Where was Ms. Hottel? Had they killed her? My stomach twisted in a sick knot.
I had to almost run to keep up with Huck as he maneuvered through the hallways until he came to a door I hadn’t been through. We stopped, and he listened before opening it and stepping out into the sunlight. I saw movement in my peripheral vision. Turning my head, I watched as a bullet went into a man’s head, and he dropped to the ground.
I screamed into the cloth muffling me. Huck began moving again and followed, but my gaze was on the gun in his hand. The one he’d just killed a man with.
Why the hell was I not crying? Was I truly this broken? I had just watched a man get shot in the head.
A black SUV came around the corner, and I started to duck. In the movies, this always appeared right before the gunfire erupted. It came to a screeching halt in front of us, and Huck jerked the door open and threw me inside. I scrambled to sit up, but Huck shoved me back down.
“Stay,” he barked.
“Where’s Gage?” the driver shouted.
“There!” Huck replied, his hand still on my back, keeping me pressed to the leather seat.
A car door opened, then slammed before I was jerked back as the driver shot off. A gunshot caused me to flinch, and then sick, maniacal laughter followed.
“Find him?” Huck asked.
“Am I in the car?” the guy from the stairs asked.
I was looking at him as he turned to reply, and his eyes dropped to me. Without barely any movement or warning, the man had the barrel of his gun pressed to my forehead, but Huck moved almost as quickly and pressed his gun to the other man’s temple.
I was frozen in shock. I didn’t dare breathe.
“What the fuck?” The man sounded shocked at Huck holding a gun to his head.
“Drop the gun,” Huck replied.
The other man took his gun back as he glared at Huck. “I didn’t know we were taking souvenirs.”
