“What choice did I have?”he bit back.“I ain’t got what you got.Wasn’t born with talent fallin’ in my lap.Didn’t inherit a goddamn club an’—”
He cut himself off, jaw hardening.
“There ain’t a way to be made in these hills anymore.Not unless you take it.”
He drew the gun from the back of his waistband and brought it up between them, the barrel aimed at her forehead.
“So here’s how this goes.You roll your sleeve up…or I put you down right here.”
Nash moved through the tunnel, phone in one hand, gun in the other, Sarge close behind him.The beam from his phone cut ahead, the narrow passage forcing him to hunch low, shoulders brushing dirt and roots as he moved.
As the tunnel opened into the second cellar, he killed the light on his phone and ducked inside.He swept the space quickly, then glanced back to find Sarge already had his phone out, sending the location to the others.
Nash jerked his chin toward the stairs and Sarge nodded, tucking the phone away as his gun came up.They crept toward the door, slow and silent.
At the top, Nash’s hand closed around the handle.He pushed it carefully, expecting resistance—but the door gave instead, opening just enough before catching on some sort of latch.
One last glance at Sarge—
Then he drove his shoulder into it, throwing his full weight forward.
The wood split with a sharp crack as the door burst inward—
And the room snapped into place.
Tables everywhere—
Ollie—gun, needle—
Cassie—bound, bloody—
Ollie reacted fast—faster than Nash would’ve given him credit for.One second he was standing over Cassie, and the next he had her half out of the chair, the cuff still locking her to it.
“Stay back,” Ollie shouted, his grip at her throat, the gun to her head.“Stay the fuck back or she’s dead—”
Nash took one slow step anyway.
“I said freeze, Walker!”Ollie barked, jerking Cassie hard enough to pull a pained sound from her, the gun pressing tight against her temple.
He stopped.“You pull that trigger,” he said low, “you’re dead before she hits the floor.”
“Swiss fuckin’ cheese,” Sarge said.
Ollie’s eyes flicked between them, around the room, calculating.
“Just let me walk,” he said quickly.“There’s a four-wheeler in the shed.You let me walk outta here, you can have her.”
“Alive,” Nash gritted out.“I can have heralive.”
Ollie’s grip flexed at Cassie’s throat, his eyes moving again between Nash and Sarge, measuring.
“Keys,” he suddenly snapped.“Cassie.Left pocket.You’re gonna get ’em and uncuff yourself.Slow.No bullshit.”
Cassie didn’t move at first, and Ollie gave her a sharp jerk that pulled another small sound from her.“Now.”
She twisted as much as Ollie’s hold allowed, reaching awkwardly behind her, fingers searching his pocket.It took a second—then another—the keys clanking as she dragged them free, missing the first time before catching on the second, the cuff giving with a sharp click.
Ollie hauled her immediately back against him, edging sideways across the room.She stumbled as he dragged her, barely catching herself.
