Page 34 of Kristoff

Rondell drags Celia forward, his strength overriding hers. “Tell me where she is!”

The need to rush Rondell and save Harlan is burning inside me. We moved to another hemisphere only to end up with Harlan’s life in danger anyway.

Footsteps hammer across the boards above us at a breakneck pace.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Brianna races downstairs.

Shit. But, given the situation, I can’t blame her for coming out of hiding.

What else can I do? If I slam into him, the gun might go off and kill Harlan. If I drag his arm away, the gun would end up pointing at Brianna as she’s coming down the stairs. I can’t keep one from getting shot only to have the other one take the bullet.

“I’m here.” Brianna stops on the third step, a white-knuckle grip on the handrail. She swallows hard, her face going pale as she takes in the scene with wide eyes. “Don’t hurt them.” Her breathing is agitated.

Rondell eyes her, his brows drawing together as doubt takes over his features. She’s in a black T-shirt and Harlan’s old sweats. Was he expecting her to be dressed in white? But after a second he pulls himself to his full height, lifting his chin and shoulders in a triumphant stance. “Ha!” he laughs. “I told you,parceiro.” He glances over his shoulder to Franco then back to Brianna. “Get down here,” he orders, releasing Celia. Brianna takes one hesitant step after another.

“Go,” Harlan mouths to Celia. But, scared as she is, she shakes her head, refusing to budge. He frowns, giving her a hard stare. Franco waves her over, and I add a slow nod of encouragement. She takes a reluctant step back, her pained expression focused on Harlan.

“I’m gonna get me my reward for you,” Rondell sneers, his breath coming out in short bursts. “We’re taking all these fools with us. I might get more for bringing in the people who helped you.”

He turns the gun on her. She gasps, stopping two steps from the ground floor. This time I step into the line of fire. Tension ratchets up. I’m focused on his trigger finger and what could be the end of my life.

Brianna…

A shot rings out, shattering the silence. My body jolts. Brianna’s terrified scream mingles with Celia’s.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Brianna

The explosion from the shot echoes off the walls. I throw my arms around Kristoff, hoping to somehow keep him safe.God, no. Please.

The bullet blasts through Ron’s head, taking a chunk of his forehead on the way out. Pieces fly about us. Kristoff and I are hit by shrapnel of the man who was standing before us. He flinches, jerking his head away as dark-red flecks catch his cheek.

Ron’s body takes a second or two to realize its life is gone. The muscles jerk, pulling the trigger, sending a bullet into the wall next to us before he lands on the floor.

On the other side of the room, Franco sets his gun back in the holster. “He never would’ve given up,” he explains, as if he’d done nothing more than bat away a fly. “The drug in his system wouldn’t let him. And we all would’ve paid the price.”

Tension soars through the room. Everyone’s attention is on Franco. “It’s okay,” I assure them before either brother decides to play the hero.

Kristoff jerks around, searching my face then checking my body to make sure I’m unharmed.

Stress shows in every line of his face. “You’re okay?” he asks, as if he needs an answer before he can breathe again.

“Yes.” I smile, my heart melting at his concern.

His features relax, and I can’t help but stare at the mark on his cheek and the bits speckled beneath it. I reach out a finger, needing to remove the…debris from his face. My mind revolts at accepting I have human remains, I’ve willingly touched, smeared onto my skin. I struggle to keep down the bile trying to crawl up my throat.

Kristoff’s arms come around me and I settle into his chest, needing his strength.

Celia’s staring at the body, her hands covering her mouth. Her gaze switches to Harlan. I’m holding my breath. Don’t tell me she’s going to hold back. Her love for the guy is sketched onto her face. I’m at the point of yelling at her when she releases a breath and launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his chest. His arms close around her, holding her so tight, he may never let go.

Happiness courses inside me like much-needed relief.

“He’s on the Faust drug?” Harlan asks.

“Yes,” Franco confirms, stepping forward. He squats, going to Ron’s left pocket and retrieving one of the familiar baggies. “Ron never knew when to stop. Always took more than he should.” Franco blows out a breath. “It’s a shame. He was my best customer.” He holds up the bag and counts the pills before tucking it into his pocket.

Silence descends as his words sink in. Everyone is putting the pieces together.

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