Page 58 of Kidnapping of a Myth

Her concerns were unwarranted, though. Tense minutes passed as they made their way to the deck, but not a single person crossed their paths. By the time they reached the final passageway, hope surged anew. They were going to make it. They were safe.

And then a crew member stepped into the hallway.

Bel shifted Michael to shield her face, hoping the stranger would assume she was another crew member assisting Wendy with her brother. He was harmless, merely an employee trained to provide luxury care to the insanely wealthy. She told herself he wasn’t a threat. He couldn’t be. They were almost free.

But then the man looked up. Their gazes met, and fear like a flood of ice clogging her veins rushed through her body as recognition registered on the man’s face. They knew each other. They’d faced off before. Only last time, Eamon had shielded her, and now she was alone with Peter Pann.

Eamon slipped onto the bridge,silent despite his hulking mass, and for a moment, no one noticed his presence save John. Alarm coated the boy’s features at the sight of the bloody millionaire, and it was his expression that finally alerted Henry to their intruder.

“You don’t learn, do you?” Henry said, raising the gun to John’s temple, and the teen stifled a sob as the metal grazed his skin. “I told you I would shoot him if you came any closer.”

“Lower the weapon,” Eamon said, the calm in his voice far more terrifying than his rage.

“I don’t care if you are some bulletproof freak. This kid isn’t.” Henry shoved the muzzle harder against John’s head, and the boy choked on his screams.

“And if you kill him, you’ll lose your bargaining chip,” Eamon said. “Then nothing can save you from me.”

“Who said anything about killing him?” Henry pointed the gun at John’s toes. “I’ll make him suffer while you watch. Then, when I’m done with him, I’ll start with the crew.” He nodded toward the captain and his terrified men. “So grab that white trash detective you’re slumming it with and get off my boat.”

Eamon’s jaw twitched at the insult, and he clenched his fist to stop himself from reacting foolishly. But lord, how he longed to sink his canines into this man’s neck and drink until not a single drop of blood remained. And he would drink slowly. He would make Henry’s end last. He would die horribly, screaming as his heart pumped the blood from his veins, and Eamon would enjoy every second. Bel was sacred, his holy ground, and death came to those who wronged her.

“You have five seconds to lower your weapon, or I will break every bone in your hand,” Eamon said calmly, forcing himself to behave for John’s sake.

“I will shoot him!” Henry shouted.

“Five.”

“Don’t test me, Stone, because I will pull this trigger.”

“Four.”

“Screw this.” Henry’s finger started for the trigger.

“Three, two, one,” Eamon said in rapid succession, and then he moved so fast that no one realized he’d crossed the floor until Henry’s screams rang out as the bones in his hand cracked.

“Wendy!”Bel threw Michael at his sister, but the boy barely left her arms before Peter Pann attacked. He barreled into her, throwing her through the galley’s swinging doors, and shecrashed against a serving cart so hard that she feared she broke a rib. Bel hit the floor with a scream, spit flying from her lips with her shrieks, but there was no relief to be had. Pann lunged through the door after her and gripped her throat, hauling her off the ground as he strangled her.

“Bel!” Wendy screamed, and through hazy vision, Bel watched as the woman foolishly rushed to her aid.

“Wendy, no!” she wheezed, but it was too late. The blonde stepped into Pann’s reach, and he tossed Bel into the shelves as he turned to punch Wendy. She went down hard, and Bel scrambled to her hands and knees, choking as she crawled across the floor despite the agony singeing her spine.

“Don’t you touch her!” She jumped onto Pann’s back and wrapped her arms around his neck, applying suffocating pressure to his windpipes. The rational recesses of her brain shrieked that it was unwise to go toe to toe with a contract killer, but Bel wasn’t prepared to witness the Darling siblings die.

“Wendy, get out of here!” She barely got the demand out before Pann elbowed her in the gut, stealing her breath with the pain. “Take Michael and go!”

“I’m not leaving you!” Wendy said, her jaw already crimson from Peter’s strike.

“Now, Wendy!” Bel ordered through gritted teeth. “Get Michael—uff.” The blow to her ribs was so severe she tumbled backward, but it didn’t matter. She’d bought the Darlings time. Wendy scooped her brother up and fled, and as Pann raced to follow, Bel flung herself to her stomach and caught his ankle. The man collapsed, and she scrambled over him, pulling the gun from her waistband as she settled onto his back.

“Don’t move.” Bel shoved the muzzle into the base of his skull. “You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be?—”

She roared as Peter reared back and slammed her to the ground. Within seconds, he ripped her service weapon from her grasp and tossed it far out of her reach. He then tried to climb on top of her, but she kneed him in the groin before he could pin her down and scrambled backward.

Pann cursed violently as he doubled over, and Bel took aim. She lashed out with a brutal and well-placed kick, but he moved so fast that she missed her mark. He caught her ankle instead and slammed her to the ground.

“I’m not after you, Detective,” he said as he turned toward the swinging door. “Stay down.”

“But I won’t let you have them.” Bel pulled herself off the floor and grabbed his shoulder, shoving him into the storage rack. “As long as there’s breath in my lungs, you can’t have them.”

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