Page 76 of Bravo

“It’s not me they want. They’ll let me go.”

“We’re out of time, guys. They’re at the bottom of the stairs,” Elijah urges.

“Go. Get her to the ranch.” Bradyn releases me, and Elijah tugs me into the room while Jaxson takes Bravo’s leash.

Bradyn leans down and runs his hand over Bravo’s head. “Be a good boy, Bravo.”

“Bradyn—”

“Go,” he says, keeping his voice low. “Please.”

I back into the room, knowing that if I get caught in here, it’ll make this sacrifice meaningless. If they get all of us, no one willknow where to find us, and I’ll have dragged three more men into the body count.

So, even though I don’t want to, I go.

“Keep her safe.”

“You have our word,” Jaxson replies. “And we’ll get you out.”

“I know.” He offers me one final smile then shuts the door. The lock clicks behind him.

A loud boom echoes like thunder, and muffled yelling fills my ears. I cover my mouth, choking on a scream as I imagine them attacking Bradyn, cuffing him, and hauling him away like a criminal when it’s really me they want.

“Come here,” Elijah orders. He takes my hand and tugs me over toward the small closet. Then, he hands me Bravo’s leash and closes us both inside.

I’m immediately plunged back into that nightmare two years ago.

I can barely hear the sound of a knock at the door.

Nor can I make out the words spoken.

All I can do is wait for the door to open…and my life to end.

CHAPTER 26

BRADYN

“Well, well, Mr. Hunt. I have to say, this is not how I saw our second meeting going.”

Klive Brown enters the interrogation room, and I tilt my head to glare up at him. I’ve been sitting here for two hours, waiting for him to arrive. All while I tried not to think too hard on the fact that they were searching the rooms, looking for Kennedy. All I can do is hope that Jaxson and Elijah were able to get her out.

“And just how did you see it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe back at the ranch as I sipped some of your mother’s delicious sweet tea.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“The day is young.” He grins. “I bet she has a pitcher in her fridge right now.”

He’s trying to rattle me, but I don’t let him see the hits landing.

“See, then we’d at least be comfortable when I tell you that the woman you’ve been harboring is wanted for murder.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He tosses a photograph down on the table. The same one printed in the newspaper, only someone has enhanced it. “Who is this?”

“Sammy Lewis,” I reply.

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