Page 143 of One Last Stand

Moose glanced at Liam. Maybe the idiot had shot Oaken by accident, a reflex, but now his gaze hardened, and he narrowed his eyes.

“Because you deserve to die.” The cool voice of Harry Benton, taking over.

A frozen silence slithered through Moose, and maybe Axel too, because he drew in a breath.

Oh.No.

Oaken’s gaze hardened into recognition. “Benton.”

“Get him over here,” Benton said to Axel, and motioned with his handgun. Axel helped Oaken over to the main area, in front of the sofa.

“Now get on your faces.”

Aw.Moose didn’t move. “C’mon, Benton. You want me, not the team. It was my fault we didn’t go back out. My call?—”

Benton turned his gun to Axel.

“Okay, okay . . .” Moose lay down, his face into his carpet, fighting off words.

“Tie him up,” said Benton to Axel, and tossed him the backpack.

Axel pulled a zip tie from the bag. Swallowed.

Benton turned his gun on Moose.

“Just take a breath there, Benton. I gotta figure out how to work these.” Axel stepped over Moose. “Sorry.”

Moose looked at him, his jaw tight. Met his eyes.

Axel nodded.

Another shot—and this time, the television shattered over them, careening off the wall. Axel caught it a second before it landed on Moose, and pushed it away.

“Next one goes into your brother,” said Benton, and Axel held up his hands in surrender.

Moose let Axel bind him.

“Tighter,” said Benton.

Yeah, that worked. The tighter the better.

“And his feet.”

Axel tied Moose’s feet.

“Now the movie star.”

Moose closed his eyes, listening to Oaken grunt. He lay on the floor, also face down, bleeding into the carpet.

Liam came over and put the end of his shotgun against Moose’s head.

“Now you, hotshot,” said Benton.

Axel landed on the floor next to Moose, his forehead into the carpet, a muscle pulling in his jaw.

From somewhere, Moose’s cell phone buzzed, and he realized he’d dropped it near the sauna.

Liam went to get it, came out with it still ringing. “It’s someone named Hot Hot Babydoll.”

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