Page 60 of Tracking Down the Lawman's Son

Staying low and prepared to dive again for cover, Luca came out of the guest room, his gun ready. He figured Duncan and maybe Slater and Woodrow were doing the same in the foyer.

“Duncan, he wants you to open the front door,” Bree relayed.

Luca could see her glancing around, no doubt looking for a way out. He prayed she would find one. If she could just manage to drop down, he would be able to send this snake straight to hell.

There was more movement in the foyer, and Luca heard the front door opening. He crept forward, peering down the stairs just as Bree and the thug reached the last step. Lightning fast, the masked man turned his gun toward Luca.

And fired.

For a couple of heart-stopping seconds, Luca thought he’d been hit. But the bullet missed, smacking into the wall above his head.

“Stay back!” Bree shouted. “All of you please stay back,” she added, her voice a strained plea.

Luca couldn’t do that. He couldn’t stay behind cover while she was in immediate danger, but he also had to time it so the masked man couldn’t get off a shot inside the house. He inched forward again and saw the gunman and Bree had already reached the now open front door. Duncan, Woodrow and Slater were indeed all there. All had their weapons drawn and were peering out behind the arched opening that led into the family room.

The thug looked up at Luca, and even though he still couldn’t see the guy’s face, their eyes met for a moment. Luca couldn’t tell for sure, but it seemed to him that the SOB was smirking. The rage knifed through Luca, but he didn’t allow it to trigger him into doing something reckless. It definitely wouldn’t help matters if he got shot. Or if he did something to cause Bree to be hurt.

The thug moved her onto the porch, and that got Luca hurrying down the stairs. Woodrow, Slater and Duncan all came out from cover, too.

And the sound of a gunshot blasted through the house.

It took Luca a moment to realize it hadn’t come from the thug dragging out Bree but rather it’d come from the direction of the kitchen. Every muscle inside him turned to iron when he saw someone. Another person dressed all in black and wearing a ski mask. He or she had a gun and fired again.

This shot, too, missed, slamming into the wall and sending Woodrow, Slater and Duncan scurrying back. Luca didn’t head back up the stairs. Instead, he bolted out through the front door and onto the porch.

He cursed when he realized he still didn’t have a clean shot. And worse. The thug was dragging Bree toward one of the ranch hand’s trucks that was parked behind a cruiser.

Luca could only watch as the man shoved Bree into the truck. Seconds later, he started the engine and sped away.

Chapter Sixteen

The moment her captor started driving away, Bree tried to figure out how to escape. She hadn’t wanted to fight before now and risk him shooting into the house. Or shooting Luca, Woodrow, Slater or Duncan.

But someone inside the house had fired a shot.

Probably a hired gun, and she prayed that everyone had stayed out of the path of the bullet. Prayed, too, that she could figure a way out of this truck.

Her hands were cuffed, but her legs and feet were free, and she tried to swivel around in the seat and kick the driver in the face. She landed a blow on the steering wheel that caused the truck to jerk to the side, but before she could regroup, the driver landed a blow of his own. He bashed the gun against her head, the barrel cutting through her stitches. Had she been standing, the pain would have brought her to her knees.

She fell back on the seat, gasping for air, trying to tamp down the searing pain. But it was overwhelming, and her chest was so tight, she couldn’t draw in a full breath.

“There are still people I can shoot,” her captor snarled in that fake voice. “If you want them to live, stop fighting.”

She immediately spotted two ranch hands running toward the truck as it reached the end of the driveway. They would indeed be easy shots, so she pulled back. Temporarily. She had to regroup. Had to push away the pain, so Bree waited until the truck was on the road before she geared up to try to land another kick.

“One wrong move, and your baby will pay,” he snapped.

That got her attention all right, and she stopped again. Even though her head was pounding and making it next to impossible for her to think, she recalled the shooter inside the house.

Maybe more than one of them.

Maybe enough to overpower Luca, Duncan, Woodrow and Slater and get upstairs to the babies. Of course, an attacker would have to get through Joelle, but her sister could be gunned down. If so, Gabriel could be taken.

Or hurt.

Oh, God. That couldn’t happen.

She couldn’t lose Luca, her son and her family like this.

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