Fitz was going for incapacitation and he got it.
I wanted the kill shot and I got it too. I don’t know whether the force of the bullet took him down or our timing was synchronized, but I don’t give a fuck.
There was an explosion just as we disembarked from Fitz’s SUV. We didn’t have to worry about the doors opening or closing giving away our presence here. Hell, we probably could’ve slammed them at the same time and no one would be the wiser.
But my father looks manic and has no means of escape. He’s going to make himself dizzy spinning in circles, looking for a threat he’ll never see unless we choose to reveal ourselves.
Fitz calmly retrieves his bullet casing and lifts it my way in reminder.
I mime in return that he should watch what’s happening in front of us as I find and pocket mine. We move on silent feet through the scraggly trees that provide no cover. There’s a berm that provides some protection but that won’t get me close enough to the situation.
“Cover me.”
Standing from my crouch, I walk around the embankment. Bold as brass with my hand at my side, my pistol held loosely, I shout, “Drop the gun, Seamus. You’re surrounded.”
He whirls on me, hand shaking, eyes wild and searching.
I remember what a gunshot feels like. Hell, my wounds haven’t even scabbed over from the last ones. I’m not interested in another.
But I would never survive watching Lorien be shot, so here I am, making myself a target.
Again.
“You? Of course it was you. Don’t call me Seamus.”
“That’s where you want to start?” I extend my hands wide, surveying the damage. “All of this, and you’re most bothered that I won’t call youDad?”
“Did you blow up my car?”
As if I would ever do anything that reckless so close to Lorien.
I shake my head. “Nope. And if you didn’t. And I didn’t. That leaves your partner”—I spit the word—“or your victim.” Gesturing to the woman on the ground, I use the time to assess her. “And since she was kidnapped, I’m guessing she didn’t either. That leaves… him.” I use my handgun to indicate Briggs’ prone body.
“But—”
I laugh but see Lorien’s thumbs-up from her position behind my father. “Do you really think an attempted murderer, a man who would violate a restraining order twenty-four hours after its issuance, has the moral high ground?” I take a couple of steps toward him. “How stupid are you? No, you’re not stupid so much as you’re arrogant. You thought you couldn’t be double-crossed by the likes of that fucker?” Another step and another, my hand growing tighter on my weapon.
“He worked for me.” He thumps his chest.
“I was wrong. Youarestupid. Did you just admit that for everyone here to hear? I was embarrassed before with your last name, but damn.”
He scans behind me.
“You can look, but you won’t see them. Five in total,” I bluff. “You think that stunt in Woodland Park was an accident?”
He lifts his gun and points it straight at me, in return I lift an arm and make a hand gesture that he assumes is me talking with the team at my back. Team of one, yes, but he doesn’t know that. In a move quicker than his age belies, he spins, turning his weapon toward Lorien.
Fuck that.
“That’s my wife.”
I charge. Call it adrenaline. Call it rage. Call it what you want, but I hit him with the force of a battering ram, my bad shoulder leading the charge.
It doesn’t matter that the wound was to the back, it’s still sore as fuck, swollen, and wrecked. Throwing it into the back of an overweight man while rolling to ensure my knee visits his balls isa ballet of brutality. My kneecap feels the contact. His testicles surely must as well. I land atop him and knock his wrist against the ground until the handgun hits the dirt. I fling it away, all too aware that the barrel faces us.
Seamus reaches for my neck with one meaty hand while swinging wildly with the other. I bob and weave, taking the hits I can’t defend as I watch my wife scramble from her position, grunting and moaning.
Her arms wrap tightly around her body as if she’s holding herself together. She screams as she picks up the gun.
