Page 50 of One Way Out

Omen struggles, fighting against Amato’s guard, but the man pulls his gun arm up like he’s trying to aim at Omen.

That sends me into motion.

I awkwardly crawl across the concrete, using one hand and kind of rolling onto my shoulder. If he takes a wide shot, he’ll be aiming at the van that Valor is still inside.

Oh, and right where I just was.

The handcuffs make the whole process a million times harder, but I ignore the scrapes the concrete leaves on my skin and focus on getting where I’m going.

Omen slams his forehead into the other man’s face, and the gun goes off. The bullet embeds into the concrete only a foot from where I was sitting.

Shrieking, I fall on my shoulder hard. It’s a struggle to get back to my hands and knees position when I can’t separate my wrists, but I manage it. Staying wide, I crawl up until I’m level with the man’s shoulder and link my hands together as much as possible with my limited range of motion.

This could go so badly, but Omen is cuffed too. He’s not in a position to block the man if he turns the gun directly on him.

I’m now facing the van instead of having my back to it, and Valor is inside, bent over in the back seat. If another bullet leaves that gun, it could slam right into him.

My chest rises and falls in rapid pants, and it feels like time slows down as I decide to act.

Omen is using his left leg to try to trap the man’s gun arm, but I pounce. My hands land on the man’s forearm, and it’s surprisingly easy to hold it to the concrete.

Maybe having my hands cuffed together gives me more strength at a fixed point?

I have no idea, but I slide my hold down to his wrist and twist. The gun falls against the concrete with ease.

“Holy shit.” I blink in confusion but snatch it up before anyone else can.

“Are ya all right?” Omen asks as several unsilenced gunshots fill the air. They come from the direction of the vehicles Amato brought, and my head whips to the side as I stagger to my feet.

Amato crouches near the back of one of the SUVs that I assume must belong to him. His back is to me, but I’m pretty sure he’s preparing to shoot someone.

The gun is heavy as I pull it up, but I do my best to aim, despite how shaky I feel.

It feels like a million years ago that Shaw went over firearm safety with me. He even promised to take me to the shooting range if my father okayed it. However, my dad must have nixed that idea because Shaw never brought it up again, but he did make sure I understood how to stand, aim, and check for a safety—which I don’t see on this model.

I line up with what I think is Amato’s spine and tell myself to act now before he even knows he’s in danger.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Omen asks from behind me.

It startles me so much that I pull the trigger, flying back from the recoil.

Jesus.

I’m lucky I didn’t give myself a black eye or knock myself out.

Amato’s shoulder flies forward, and a bright red bullet hole appears in the back of his suit coat.

My jaw falls as my hands fly up.

I aim at Amato all over again, but I’m shaking so badly, it feels dangerous to take another shot.

“It’s just me,” Omen says, and his warmth appears at my back. “Damn, woman. Good shot.”

“Are you okay?” Valor’s voice comes from somewhere near the van, but I don’t take my eyes off Amato as he spins, pulling his gun up.

Only, he never gets to pull the trigger. His right arm is ripped down as a knife slides across his throat from behind.

Shaw’s blue eyes meet mine over Amato’s shoulder as Valor’s old boss slumps, pulling his left hand up to try to stop the bleeding.

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