“Is that what you want?” Head cocked, she studies him. “Suicide by cop?”
My breath hitches.God, the woman has balls.She’s buying us time—but will it work?
I picture the weapons locked in the closet. Sixty seconds is all I need.
My cell phone rings.
Ah fuck. Not now.
Hunt’s name lights up the screen. Every eye in the room jerks to my device on the table. In that instant, Bree’s hand flashes. My truck keys vanish off the desk—lightning-quick.
“Don’t answer.” The growling stalker is too focused to notice her daring theft.
My pulse spikes.Smart woman. Holy Jesus, if he catches her…
“Please don’t shoot me.” Andrea sobs from the corner, wheezing and gulping for air.
The rifle swings toward her. Predator to prey.
“You gave her credit for our kill.”
Her red nails flail. “I’m sorry! I simply assumed—”
He fires.
One clean shot.
She drops.
A perfect hole between her eyes.
My stomach lurches as the metallic iron scent floods my nostrils. Another life snuffed out for no reason. In my damn office.
As Becca goes wild, barking, snarling, scrabbling behind the door, the barrel swings back at me.
Above it? The dead, unfeeling, soulless eyes of a shark.
Weapon steady, his finger dances over the trigger.
Taking what might be my last breath, I wish I’d told Bree how I feel. I know it’s too soon—makes no sense. But what in life ever does?
Resigned, I lift my chin. “Go a—”
“Wait, wait.” Briana jumps in.
No, babe, no.
Before I can shove her out of the line of fire, she blurts out, “This man’s a tracker. You could pit your skills against his. Wouldn’t that be more fun?”
As the killer hesitates, I step in front of my reckless, brilliant woman. Her courage, her quick thinking—She keeps blowing me away.
“You’ve got skills.” Carmine lowers his weapon an inch. “Where’d you learn?”
I hold his stare. “Tom Brown’s—in the Pine Barrens. New Jersey.”
His hollow gaze sharpens. “I know it well.”
Lizard-like, a tongue flicks across his lower lip. “If I let you live… will you track me?”
