“You don’t like making your guests feel comfortable?” Jack says conversationally. “You could use better chairs anyway. These are too rigid. Why don’t you get over here and tell me what you think about them.”
I don’t move. He shifts his aim in Kendrick’s direction. “Now.” Pegged my weak link too easily. Fuckingasshole.
Jack kicks the chair away from himself and moves closer to the kitchen counter. Still out of arm’s reach. Clever. Too goddamn clever. We’d never get close enough without him getting at least one shot off. And I doubt he misses.
A discreet glance at Greer tells me he’s ready to do something stupid. I don’t particularly want him to get hurt either. He’s my brother in all but blood, and I refuse to have to be the one to tell Six he’s not coming home. A subtle shake of my head relaxes him at least a fraction. I still don’t trust it.
“You,” Jack says, waving his gun at Kendrick. “Get over here and tie him up.” He yanks rope out of a duffel bag near his feet and throws it on the floor between Kendrick and where I’m seated. He came prepared. I fucking hate that. “I know my knots; make sure you do them properly. If not? I do like what happens when a high-calibre bullet hits a target at this close range. Have you ever seen it before? The pressure causes a spray that’s like a masterpiece in a museum.”
I can’t breathe properly through the panic and my rapidly beating heart. Anger sits heavy in my gut. At him and at myselftoo. We should have been more vigilant. The idea of him getting into our apartment and ambushing us never occurred to me. An attack? Yes. I’ve been looking over my shoulder for days now. But never once had I thought he’d catch us unaware like this. Not good enough.
Kendrick’s fingers glide over my skin as he wraps up my wrists behind the chair. He’s right there, I can feel him, and it helps despite what he’s doing. Being helpless in this situation, however, isn’thelping.
“I’ll get you out of this,” Kendrick says under his breath, a bare whisper that I only just catch. More anger spikes in my chest, curling like a heavy ball of fire.
Ishould be the one getting us out of here, not tied to a goddamn fucking chair. It’s my responsibility to protect him. I can’t do this again, be in this position where I’m helpless to do anything but watch him get hurt.
I catch Greer’s eye, and I know he’s about to make a move. He’s still got that jittery look. Does he think he’s gonna get there before he gets shot? I have faith in the deadly skills he has, but we’re not infallible, and we certainly can’t dodge a goddamn bullet.
“Now what?” I ask, trying to draw Jack’s attention. “Gonna shoot us and walk off into the sunset? You have no idea what kind of people will come for you once you’re done here. There are more dangerous people than us out there.” Once the rest of the team gets a hold of him, he’llwishhe was dead. Moira’s quite inventive, and Six is scary when he’s pissed off. He has a long fuse, but anyone standing at the end of it better run. And if someone touches Greer? There is no fuse, just an explosion.
“Are you trying to scare me?” Jack asks, smiling lazily. “You stole my prize, and I’ve come to collect. I’ll be far from here by the time anyone comes looking for you.”
He’s certainly a cocky motherfucker. And wrong. “It’s so cute that you think that.” If he kills us, there’s nowhere in the world he can hide. He’ll be joining us in Hell, and we’ll make sure to torment him forever, now and in the afterlife. It’ll give us something to do. “We’re the nightmare, not you.” The only thing comforting me right now is that Kendrick and I will go together. No one is getting left behind. Though that’s worst-case scenario and not one I plan on letting happen.
“You’re the one tied to a chair.”
“I can kill you while blindfoldedandtied to this chair.” Just need to get him to aim somewhere else. Besides, I’m not alone. That’s the beauty of teammates that are family I trust with my life.Idon’t need to kill him; they’ll do the job just fine. All we need to do is get him in the right position. “Too scared to find out and see, aren’t you? You need that gun to make yourself feel like a big man. You’re really just an insecure child that gets off on killing people weaker than you.”
There’s finally a flicker of anger in those eyes, and Greer makes his move. He shoulders Jack in a blur, and they stagger into the kitchen counter. A shot goes off, but it’s wide and hits the far wall. An excellent start—the fuckingmoron—but the problem is that Jack is a hell of a lot bigger than Greer. While he’s holding his own, he needs backup.
Kendrick is already pulling at my bonds, undoing his work. Not quickly enough.C’mon, c’mon.
Fear thrums through me like a drum beating against my skull. I force myself not to wriggle my hands and make it any harder for Kendrick.
Greer punches Jack in the face, with little to no impact on the behemoth. He gets one in return, and then his head is slammed into the sharp corner of the counter, leaving blood dripping from it. Greer wobbles slightly and then jerks an elbow into Jack’s solar plexus. He wraps his hands around Jack’s throat while he’sdazed, squeezing hard enough his knuckles go white. He doesn’t let go even as Jack tugs at his wrists. That strength won’t last forever; Kendrick needs to fucking hurry up.
Jack reaches around behind himself, and I see the glint of silver before Greer can react. I bite back the yell that wants to rip from my throat. It’s too late and distracting him will only make it worse. Jack swipes out with the blade and gets Greer right across his cheek, blood spraying from the cut. Greer cries out, more of a surprised grunt, and then grips the wrist holding the weapon, twisting until Jack drops it. He headbutts Jack and with a mighty roar, shoves him away. Greer punches his jaw and flattens his hand before slamming the side of it into his throat with force. Jack falls to a knee with a choke and then gets Greer’s knee to the face with a crunch from a breaking nose. Greer forces him to roll over and then straddles his back, yanking his hands up and against his back.
“You’re under arrest,” he pants, blood running down his face. It’s in his mouth and dripping from his jaw. His skin is open almost from his earlobe to just below his bottom lip. He’s going to need stitches, and fast. “Just shut the fuck up, or I’ll use every word you say to finger you dry in court.” He pulls cuffs from his back pocket, his bloody hand slipping a few times before he gets them around Jack’s wrists and clipped on. “Or do. I don’t give a fuck; I wouldn’t mind doing it now, just with a gun.” Every word has to be agony.
“Ken,” I say urgently. Greer needs to be looked at. Someone needs to call Six. He should be here soon. Greer said he was on his way, didn’t he?
“I know.” The ropes are loosening, tension easing, and they start to slide down my hands and off my wrists.
The door bursts open, and a stranger enters the fray. “Jack, I heard gunfi—”
Kendrick curses, and then he’s on his feet, rushing him, slamming the guy against the doorframe. He strikes out at Kendrick, who grunts at the impact. The attacker is reaching for something. Is he armed?Fuck. I tug desperately at my bonds. Panic clutches at my throat, threatening to choke me.
Kendrick wrestles with the hand that’s holding the gun. The guy jerks his arm down, and a shot rings out, and everything stops. Every second is like slow motion as Kendrick makes a pained sound and staggers back, a hand against his side. No.
No.
The ropes drop, and I’ve never moved faster in my life. Yanking the drawer open and grabbing one of the guns inside, I aim and shoot without thought. It goes straight through the man’s head. A little off to the side, but accuracy’s not my current concern. As long as he’s dead, I don’t care how it happens. I’m at Kendrick’s side before the piece of shit even hits the ground.
Kendrick leans heavily against the wall, and I clutch at him, hands trembling. He slides down, leaving an obscene smear of blood on the white.
“Ken? Ken, talk to me.”
