“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Lowell shifted, palming his weapon as they continued to watch. “We burn bridges with the local LEOs and Feds that it’s taken years to build.”
“We’re already on a short rope with the alphabet soup.”
“Probably because their higher-ups are using rings just like Horvath’s for their weekend getaways.”
Cord clenched his teeth, focused on that white stucco house worth an easy mill. “We need a new plan.”
“No spit,” Lowell snapped. “But she gave us up. Maybe … maybe this is a lost cause. I mean, I want to help Metcalfe as much as you do, but this ain’t the way, man. We’ve seen it before?—the girl gets scared and burns us. We can’t afford that here.”
Cord thumped a hand at the windshield. “Horvath has a leash around her neck and a claw in her chest. She gave us up out of self-preservation, but I think she also bought us time.”
Lowell sat for a few minutes before cracking his knuckles.
“The kid wanted to leave.”
Cord noticed, too. “She’s young, desperate.” Unlike their objective who’d been in chains so long the weight of them had become a part of her identity. Maybe they should break their M.O. Snatch the girl and her self-proclaimed protector to safety.
Lowell hissed another curse as the men returned to the house. “They’re going back in.”
Back inside? Why? Cord tensed at the unfolding scene. Brighton stood just inside the front door, doing her best not to let the goons pass. He wasn’t really worried about them trying to get favors from Brighton. All the earmarks of this girl said Horvath would kill anyone who tried anything with her. But he sure didn’t like the way they were bullying their way back into the house.
A shot cracked the night.
Cord pitched himself out of the truck. Weapon in hand, he sprinted down the street toward the house. Even as he slid into the well of the front porch, he heard Lowell thundering behind him as more screams split the chaos. Glock up, he advanced.
Pain exploded across her cheek from the butt of the gun. Sent Brighton flying backward. Aware of the glass coffee table, she tried to avoid it, but the blow was too sharp, too fast. Her hip connected with it. Slammed down. The rain of glass formed a jagged cushion, cutting into her thigh and hands. Brighton cried out but saw Finch coming in for another blow.
“He’ll kill you for this,” she growled.
“No, he’ll thank me for reminding you of your place. Now, get up.” He grabbed her by the hair and rammed her head into the side table.
Dizzy but focused, Brighton had enough wherewithal to not fight these men. Yeah, she’d had classes on how to protect herself from drunk clients—but these men weren’t drunk. And she’d learned the hard, painful way to never use those skills against Ladomer’s men.
A blur of rage called Mari swept past her as the girl vaulted at the brawny thug.
“Mari, no!” Glass from the coffee table sliced Brighton’s arms and wrist as she struggled to her feet. The cuts stung but weren’t bad.
Drex was big—much bigger than the spritely fifteen year old. He backhanded Mari, sending her sprawling into the corner of the entry. Her head hit the corner with a sickening thud. Air gusted from her lungs and she collapsed.
“No!” Brighton screamed and lunged to intervene.
Finch manifested between her and Mari, shoulders squared. He leered. “You want more? Maybe you need to be reminded of what you are.”
His insinuation nauseated her. “You know Ladomer will kill you.” Her voice quaked.
“Not after he finds out you’ve been trying to escape.”
“I would never do that,” Brighton lied, knowing all bets would be off about her safety and appearance since he felt she needed reminders.
“Oh, I know that. And I’m going to make sure.” He tugged at his belt buckle.
Brighton shoved at him.
But he was prepared. Blocked—and caught her arm. Twisted it down and around, behind her. Pitched her forward, dropping her to the carpet as a blood-curdling scream pierced her ears. His weight pinned her hard, her head bouncing off the floor. She stiffened. Tried to think. Tried to figure out how to—
A shot rang out.
Brighton jerked up, confused. Vision blurred from the blow, she couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. But she was freed from Finch’s bulk. She scrambled aside and saw Mari hurrying toward her. Had she shot someone? What happened? Why weren’t the men—
