Page 70 of Searching Blind

"You're not really in a position to be making demands, Murphy."

Sawyer bared his teeth in a feral grin. "You'd be surprised what I'm capable of."

Grant scoffed. “What are you going to do to me?”

A flicker of movement caught his eye. Was that… fingers? Yes. Lucy was wiggling her fingers at her side.

“Who are you?” he asked to keep Grant distracted while he tried to interrupt her hand signals.

“My name doesn’t matter. I’m just a hired gun.”

“Then why haven’t you killed us yet?” C’mon, Luce, he urged silently. What are you trying to tell me?

She bladed her hand, pointing like a flight attendant, then made her fingers into a gun before they faded from his sight again.

“I need to know what you know first,” Grant said.

Sawyer slid a step in the direction she’d indicated, and his foot nudged something. Her backpack. “I know you’re a fucking coward, hiding from a blind guy behind a woman.”

Grant growled. “Where is Pierce St. James?”

Sawyer froze. “What the fuck does Pierce have to do with this?"

That question seemed to piss Grant off, because the next thing Sawyer knew, there was a gun pressing into his forehead. "Don't play games with me, Murphy. I know he’s in Steam Valley. Word on the street is he's involved with your little dog show. Redwood Coast Rescue. Where is he?” Grant pressed the muzzle harder into his forehead. “What has he told you?"

Sawyer dropped to his knees. The impact jarred his already aching body, but it put him closer to Lucy’s pack. His hand brushed something partially buried in the dirt and his heart pounded in his chest as he realized what it was—the gun he’d given Lucy. That was what she was trying to tell him.

“I told you before when you attacked me, I don’t know where Pierce is.” He figured the truth was his best option for distraction as his hand closed around the gun. “I came up here looking for him, too.”

"You expect me to believe that?" Grant's voice was a low growl, the pressure on his forehead relenting a little.

"It’s the truth.” Sawyer gritted his teeth, ignoring the sharp pain radiating from his knee. The sleek metal of the gun nestled into his palm like an old friend, its weight comforting and familiar. He kept it hidden in the dirt as he considered his options.

He could shoot Grant, but he didn’t know where Lucy was. Did he really want to run the risk of hitting her, too?

Suddenly Grant’s foot crunched down on his hand, and he bit back a shout of pain. He wasn’t going to give the bastard the satisfaction.

“You’re not being as stealthy as you think you are.” Grant yanked the gun from under his hand and then pressed more of his weight down on Sawyer's hand. "My employers will get what they’re after, one way or another.”

Sawyer gritted his teeth against the pain. “They won’t get it from me.”

“Then I have no use for you anymore.” For a moment, Grant shifted his weight, easing the pressure on Sawyer's hand. It was a brief moment of relief that Sawyer would have savored if he wasn't suddenly aware of something else— Lucy's presence.

She was close.

"Sawyer, duck!"

His body moved on pure instinct, dropping flat to the ground as a gunshot exploded way too close to his head.

Jesus, if she hadn’t told him to move…

Ears ringing, he rolled and grabbed a handful of pebbles and dirt, flinging them toward where he last saw Grant. There was a grunt of surprise, then another wild gunshot. Something heavy fell at his side. He felt around until his fingers touched cool metal—the gun Grant had taken from him.

He held it up. “Lucy!”

Lucy lunged for the gun in Sawyer’s hand, getting to it milliseconds before Grant. He bared his teeth at her. His eyes were red and irritated from the dirt Sawyer had thrown at him. A small cut had opened up above his eyebrow and streamed blood down his face.

She didn’t give him time to react—just shoved the gun at his chest and fired.

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