Page 122 of End Game

Above him, Jillian stood as regal as ever, brandishing a metal meat tenderizer. “They removed all the knives, but left this.” She rocked the hammer-like kitchen utensil back and forth. “Sloppy.”

The guard rallied, sliding a serrated knife from a sheath strapped around his leg. Before he could free it, Kayla put the flashlight to use again and finished the meat tenderizer’s job.

When he lay prone and bleeding between them, Kayla shared a smile with her mother. Until she recalled how friendly Jillian had been with her so-called captor.

“What’s going on here, Mom?”

“Helping you rescue me, of course.”

“I don’t mean this.” She swept a hand over the unmoving guard. “Why are you hiding out in Aunt Sybil’s guesthouse?”

Jillian frowned. “Hiding out?” Something caught her eye and she sucked in a sharp breath before ordering, “Get inside!”

Kayla detected rapid movement in her peripheral vision. She reached for the handgun stuffed in the back of her jeans at the same time she flicked on the flashlight.

Rather than the bright, blinding beam she’d anticipated, a red glow lit up the guard. Ash’s night vision saver.

Even so, the guy ground to a halt, throwing an arm up to protect his eyes. “Kayla, it’s me.”

Ash.

She immediately lowered the gun and flashlight. A tremor took root in the center of her stomach and worked its way through her body, until it reached her hand. Slowly, carefully, she slid the pistol into the back of her pants before she lost all motor coordination.

She’d almost shot him. A half-second away from squeezing the trigger and shattering a man’s life. Not just any man.

Ash.

“You had a gun and you chose to attack my guard with a flashlight instead?” Jillian said, oblivious to or blatantly ignoring the near calamity right beneath her nose.

Kayla peeled her burning gaze from Ash to address her mother. “Do I look like a guns-blazing kind of gal?” The words shook from her mouth, echoing the tremors she couldn’t get under control.

Jillian sent her a warm, reassuring smile. “No, sweetheart, you don’t.”

Realization of what her mother was trying to do came to her by slow degrees, as if each neuron had to slog through thick gel before making a synaptic connection. Once she understood, Kayla tried to send her an answering thank-you, but her chin wobbled instead.

“Come on,” Ash said, holding his hand out to Kayla, “we need to get out of here. The guards won’t stay incapacitated for long.”

Kayla looked back at the beautiful woman still standing in the slider door frame. She didn’t know what to make of her mother being here, but she knew she couldn’t leave her behind.

Lifting an outstretched hand, she said, “Mama?”

Jillian hesitated the slightest bit before clasping tight to Kayla’s hand.

She turned back to Ash and nodded, just as another guard rounded the corner of the house and fired off a shot.

Ash’s body bucked, then he slipped from her fingers.

62

The bullet slammed into Ash’s shoulder with the force of Drago’s knockout punch.

Using his temporary imbalance as leverage, a small hand shoved him down before he could gather himself enough to return fire.

“Get down,” Kayla yelled, and Jillian Krowne dropped to the ground beside him.

Two succinct, controlled reports splintered the air, and Ash twisted around in time to see the guard who’d shot him fall. Kayla stood in front of him, arm extended, weapon pointing in the direction of the downed guard. A warrior protecting her teammate.

He pushed himself into a sitting position, transferring his pistol to his left hand. The weight didn’t feel foreign in his nondominant hand. He always made a point of shooting with both at the range. His forethought would pay off tonight.

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