“Actually”—Coop nodded—"there is one thing you should probably know.”
“What’s that?”
The corner of Coop’s lips curved into a smug smirk. “My partner’s a fucking genius.”
Paul’s black brows were still turning inward when Coop brought his freed hands around and grabbed the gun. Coop pushed the barrel away from him.
Eyes wide with surprise, Paul tried maintaining control of the weapon, but he was too late. Coop pulled the trigger, sending the bullet meant for him into the other man’s gut.
Paul grunted, a flash of pain crossing his face as he stumbled back. Looking down, the injured man pressed his hands against the wound to try to stop the bleeding.
“You…bastard.”
Coop kept the gun trained on the asshole while bending down to free his ankles from the ropes. When he got the last of the rope loose, he shot to his feet.
“Hate to break it to you, but that isn’t going to do you any good. Bullet hit too many organs.”
“Go to…h-hell.” Paul’s teeth clenched together. He dropped to his knees.
“Don’t worry, man. I’ll make sure you don’t wake up a vegetable.” Coop aimed the gun at the guy’s head, pulled the trigger, and took off in a dead sprint in search of Mac.
Hold on, baby. I’m coming!
As he got closer to the main door, Coop could hear muffled shouts coming from outside.Having worked multiple hostage rescue ops, he already knew the kind of scene he was about to walk into, but that didn’t matter.
Coop’s blood still turned to ice when he opened the door and stepped outside.
Henry Doyle was standing less than ten feet away from him, and he was using Mac as a human shield. With her back to his chest, the bastard had the barrel of his gun pressed against the side of her head.
I’m going to fucking end him.
Coop raised his weapon as he began to creep closer, but Doyle had heard him come outside. The other man turned enough to glance his way, keeping Mac in a position he knew would keep Coop from shooting.
Coop locked eyes with Mac. Gave her a single nod, letting her know he was okay. Relief filled her eyes, the smile spreading across her face damn near killing him.
The rest of their team was standing in a half-circle around their target. All four of his friends had their guns drawn and at the ready, taking turns yelling at Doyle to drop his weapon.
He refused, knowing they didn’t have a clear shot. If they did, they would’ve taken it by now.
Could they hit the bastard? Absofuckinglutely. But not without risking Mac, which was something no man on the team was willing to do.
“Drop the fucking gun!” Coop yelled.
“Stay back!” Doyle twisted from side to side in order to keep an eye on his enemies. “I’ll kill her. I swear I will!”
Derek inched forward, his trigger finger twitching. “You do, you’ll be dead before your ass hits the ground.”
“I didn’t want to do this!” The desperate man looked back at D. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this!”
“Thisis what happens when you make deals with the Devil,” Coop informed him. His jaw tightened, his voice turned deadly. “Let her go and drop the gun, or I swear tofuckI will drop you.”
Panicking, Doyle tightened his hold on Mac. The moved caused his arm to slide upward and press against her throat.
Mac’s hands began clawing at the son of a bitch’s arm, her toes scrambling to find purchase on the graveled lot. Even from here, Coop could hear her struggling to breathe.
“You won’t shoot me.” Doyle’s eyes met his. “I heard what you said in there. You love her, so you aren’t going to do anything to risk hurting her.”
While Doyle continued his desperate ramblings, Mac released the death grip she had on the man’s arm. Keeping one eye on Doyle, Coop watched as she slid her hand inside the cleavage of her tank.
