He tossed the device to the wood floor and stomped on it, then ground the heel of his boot on the screen until it shattered. Her phone lay in pieces.
He went back to the window. “Okay, people. On your feet.”
With Pope distracted, Mia quickly signaled with her hand for the others to stay put and jumped up. “How about leaving the others here and just taking me?”
Pope spun around. “The brat is my insurance policy. Nobody likes it when a kid gets killed.”
Jessie’s cries grew louder.
Mia faced Jessie. “Don’t worry, honey. He’s not going to hurt you.”
“Says you.” Pope snorted and waved his gun at Jessie then locked his stance on her. “You’ll be okay, kid, if everyone does exactly what I tell them.”
Mia had wanted to comfort the child and failed, but Nikki took Jessie into her arms and stroked her hair. Jessie’s heart-wrenching sobs subsided a fraction.
Mia scanned the room for a way to stop their captor. Ryan was nowhere in sight. She couldn’t let Pope get them in a car. She had to act now. It was up to her to disarm the man.
“I said for you all to get up.” Pope waved the gun over the group, ending with it pointed above them.
Mia seized the moment. She launched into Pope, chopping up with her arms locked together to force his gun free.
He held tight and tumbled backward. His free hand caught her hair. Jerked her down on top of him.
The gun discharged.
The bullet pierced the ceiling. Showered debris down on Mia. She flung her arm out. Knocked the gun from Pope’s hand. The weapon slid across the floor above his head. She broke free and lunged for it. Her fingers touched the handle.
Pope clamped a hand on her leg and jerked her backward.
She stabbed a toe into the wood and held her ground. She reached harder. Slapped her hand at the gun to send it skittering across the floor into the corner. Out of reach.
Pope growled and pulled hard, flipping her over. He rose up, glaring at her with fiery eyes. Veins in his neck surged to the surface, flushing his face to a raging red.
Hoping to poke him in the eye, she shot out a hand.
Pope leaned on an elbow and clamped his other hand on her arm.
Everything moved so fast. Seconds, really, and he’d taken control again.
“Get off, Pope!” Ryan yelled from above. “Or so help me, I’ll empty this gun on you.”
Pope’s eyes narrowed. He rolled to the side, releasing Mia and blinking up at Ryan.
Breathing deeply, Mia peered at Ryan too. His eyes burned with the same revulsion that coursed through her veins.
But under it all, she found thankfulness and gratitude burning bright. Ryan had saved the day. They were safe. Thanks to him. To God. Her anger dissolved so rapidly she could hardly believe the rapid change.
She’d asked God to help them. He had. Sent His hands in the flesh. Right beside her. The rescuer she’d asked for. Not just any rescuer, but Ryan. The man who could help her let go of all the anger and hurt from past betrayals. The man who could walk beside her and lead her in a God-filled life.
If only she would give in and let him. Let God. And she would. Starting now. Trusting Him with her life. With her problems and her fears. Let Him take charge and give her the peace she’d sought for ten long years.
“We need to call Russ and get him down here,” Ryan said.
“He smashed my phone, but I can use yours.”
Not taking his eyes from Pope, he dug it from his cargo pocket and handed it to her. She found Russ’s icon and tapped it.
“Ryan has Pope under guard. You can come down here.”
