Shit. The knife flew from his grasp. They rolled in a tangle of arms and limbs, hitting a hallway table. A ceramic vase fell and shattered. The jagged shards crunched beneath him as he rolled through the debris, but his tough denim jacket saved his back from who knew how many cuts. His holstered gun jabbed him in the waist, shooting pain through his back.
Ackermann straddled him and rained down his fists. Spittle flew from his mouth.
Ugh. Jarrett grimaced and held up his arms to block the jabs. Some good that did. The strikes to his arms hurt to the bone. A swift uppercut rang his jaw. Ouch! Another hit whipped his face to the side and flashed dots in his vision. The pain searing his face swept down to his neck and chest. He grabbed his gun and fingered the trigger.
The agent pitched sideways.
The bullet slammed into the light fixture. Glass rained down in tiny shards and covered the floor.
He launched on top of Ackermann and smashed his gun across his face.
Blood spewed from the traitor’s nose. He screeched and sliced at Jarrett’s hands and arms with his knife.
Oh, fuck. The knife! The blood oozing from the thin cuts along the back of his hand slicked his palm. He tightened his slippery grip on the hilt. As he hauled back his arm to hit Ackermann again, the gun flew free and struck the bottom stair. He fisted his attacker’s wrist to stop him from stabbing him and jerked it back until the joints popped.
The fellow agent screamed and blanched white.
Jarrett froze as the kitchen door swung open so hard the hinges groaned and locked up. Fuck, no.
Harold crashed into the hall wall head-first. Drywall dust ballooned around him. He groaned as his eyes rolled back.
Oh, God. Dad! Bile burned up his throat.
A dark-haired stranger emerged from the kitchen. He kicked Harold in the stomach and confiscated his Beretta.
“Leave him alone!” Relief belted through him as his father’s chest rose and fell in slow, steady beats.
The prick shoved Harold’s weapon into his jacket pocket and fired his own matte-black gun.
The blast rang in Jarrett’s ears. A bullet slammed into him, knocking him back on his ass. Agony pierced his shoulder as blood stained his clothes.
Ackermann clambered up and clutched his dislocated wrist to his chest.
Marissa stumbled through the doorway. “Damn you.”
“Get back here.” A short blond man in black jeans and a dark jacket fisted her hair and jerked her to him.
Air caught in Jarrett’s lungs. These assholes were Bill’s accomplices! He rose to his knees and held up his uninjured arm as Marissa’s captor pressed a gun to her temple. “You son of a bitch. If you hurt her, I’ll skin you alive.”
The blond swung his smirk to Ackermann. “The woman and the old man are the only ones here.”
“Fine. You brought this on yourself, Brandt.” The agent grabbed his knife and Jarrett’s gun before he wiped at the blood that leaked from his nose and mouth. “If you’d gone to Montana, your family would’ve lived to celebrate New Year’s. I’ll find your mom and that kid too. They’ll all suffer for the shit you caused.” He kicked him in the head with his hard-soled boot.
“Aargh.” Pain zigzagged through his skull as he hit the floor. Marissa’s shouts buzzed like white noise. His head swam and vision blurred. How could he get out of this? “Let them go, Ackermann.” His words slurred. He struggled to his knees again and clasped his aching shoulder.
The smiling bastard stalked around him and clutched him a stranglehold.
No! Jarrett clawed at the man’s flexing arm and dug his fingers into thick wool. His throat constricted as his lungs pumped overtime to draw in life-giving air. He coughed and choked, his mouth drying.
Ackermann relaxed the pressure.
Finally! He dragged in a sharp, stinging breath. “Goddamn you. I will fucking kill you!”
He laughed and shoved Jarrett’s gun against the younger man’s temple. “Pick who we kill first—your girl, or the cop. Don’t take too long to decide, though. Scotty and Paulo are eager to sample that tasty treat between her legs. Hell, so am I.”
Never. Fury rushed like fire through his veins. Sweat slicked his skin.
Tears streaked Marissa’s cheeks as the blond used her as a shield.
