Fourteen
Noel didn’t have much time. He knew that. But Deacon’s help made all the difference. While Deacon set off the many traps in the woods, Noel had made a beeline for the cabin.
He’d left Deacon his pack and only had his Jericho to take care of Brent Morgan, a man whostill didn’t seem to exist. Noel had left his phone with Deacon, on the off chance Brent had a way to keep track of it.
But that put him out of communication. He had no idea what he’d be getting into.
He approached the cabin and belly-crawled the short open distance between the tree line and the side of the home. He saw a side window, presumably leading to a basement.
Hammerhadn’t found any layouts of the place, but he’d cautioned Noel to be wary of booby-traps and alarms.
Noel thought he could squeeze through the window, but the wires there told him he had to forego it. So he set an explosive at the window and moved on. He carefully did a perimeter run of the house, alert for any sign of trouble. Nothing. Listening close, he heard a low voice. He drew closerto the underside of a window, where a small hole afforded him a better view.
Glancing through the decrepit wall, he saw Addy siting in a chair, Brent Morgan across from her holding a gun.
He listened while the bastard explained himself. None of it made any sense. Angel and Brent? A prodigy of Big Joe? None of the guys had anything to do with Angel’s demise.
That we know of.
Had Big Joe used them to dispose of her without them knowing? And if so, what did that mean for the baby or Angel? Was she actually dead, then?
To his horror, Brent stood over Addy and drew his gun.Move, Addy. Get out of there!
“We all have a part to play, Adeline. Now play yours,” Brent said, then fired.
Noel hit the trigger on the bomb, counted down the three-seconddelay…
“That’s just a love tap. Let’s try again.”
Addy moved just as the bomb blew. Noel straightened and fired through the window, careful not to catch Addy in the crossfire. But the bastard must have been expecting him as he dove out of sight. Noel rocketed through the glass, catching himself on the jagged edges. The pain didn’t matter. Addy lying on the ground, bleeding, unmoving,mattered.
He became Ice because he had to. He felt a bullet tear through his side as he launched himself at Brent. They fought for the gun. Brent was good, but Ice was better. Noel disarmed him and tossed the gun to the ground.
Brent drew a knife from his back holster and lunged. Noel fought back, taking a few slices to his arm and hand but not allowing himself to feel anything.
He funneled all his rage, his pain, at Brent. He ducked a vicious jab aimed at his throat and rammed his head up, hitting Brent under the chin.
The bastard was off balance and shaky now, and Noel ignored a feeling of dizziness and tackled him to the ground. They rolled for dominance while Noel continued to hit Brent in the ribs, the gut, the groin, any soft part he took pleasure inannihilating, until he heard Brent wheeze and knew he’d broken a few ribs and possibly punctured a lung.
Noel found the knife lying on the ground by Brent’s side. He gripped it and shoved the blade into Brent’s belly, staring down the fucker who’d tried to kill all he held dear. “Go to hell.”
Blood bubbled on Brent’s lips. “Been there.”
Noel twisted the knife. He saw Brent’sfrown, then a delighted smile that didn’t belong there.
Too late, he registered another person in the room and heard the gunshot. But he didn’t feel any pain. He rolled off Brent and saw a dark-haired woman clutching her throat and gasping as she fell to her knees. A gun tumbled out of her hands.
Addy lay on her side, Brent’s gun outstretched in her hands. She saw Noel staring ather and gave him a pained smile. “Could have told you I’m a crack shot.” Then she collapsed in on herself and moaned, “I’m okay. I’m alive. You’re good. We’re good.” She continued to mutter, conscious, in pain, but she’d be okay, he prayed.
Brent whispered something.
Noel reluctantly turned back to him, needing any kind of information he could get before the bastard died.
“What?”
Brent whispered, “Nine. I’m really…” Unintelligible words. “…nine. Angel man. Coming.”
Then he died.
