He’s not calm.
He’s calculating.
Waiting.
The same way predators wait before they strike.
Mara sees it too.
That’s why her gun is pointed at him now instead of me.
“You move again,” she says quietly, “and she dies.”
Boone’s voice comes back low and steady.
“Then don’t give me a reason.”
Behind me the man shifts his weight.
Bad leg.
I felt it earlier when he stumbled.
His grip tightens again around my arm.
Too tight.
Too desperate.
Which means he’s hurting.
Which means he’s losing strength.
I glance toward Mara.
Her eyes flick between Boone and Adam.
Not me.
That’s the mistake.
I suck in a sharp breath.
Then let my knees buckle suddenly.
My full weight drops backward.
The man swears as the shift throws off his balance.
“Hey—!”
My elbow slams backward into his ribs again.
Hard.
He grunts.
His grip loosens just enough.
