Page 27 of Come For Me
“Back off,” Dain told the officers over his shoulder. “Just let me get to my wife.”
Her eyelids fluttered up, her desperate gaze locked with his. He tried hard to reassure her with a single look that this whole mess would turn out all right. He would make it come out all right.
“Move, sir.”
Like hell.“I can’t do that.”
“Sir, move!” Harder. They were getting impatient.
“I’m ordering you to put your gun down on the floor and get on your knees.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You will comply or—”
“Sir, get on your knees!” A third officer. Dain shook his head, attention on Cecil and the gun in his hand. On Livie.
“Sir—”
“Shut the fuck up!” Cecil roared. The hand holding the gun lowered the slightest bit, reflecting his shift in attention. The white-knuckle grip he had on Livie relaxed.
Dain met Elliot’s eyes across the room. Nodded. It was no more than a millisecond, but it was all they needed to plan, to act.
A piercing whistle sliced through the air. Livie jerked her head at the sound, turning toward Elliot.
Elliot dipped her chin, telling Livie what to do.
She dropped—and slid right out of Cecil’s distracted hold.
A single shot bit through the air.
It all happened so fast, and yet…not. Dain could hear Livie’s knees crack against the hard floor. Saw the buck of Cecil’s body as Elliot’s bullet found its mark. Livie curling down over her stomach to protect their baby. So fast, and stretching out for an eternity. For forever. Until Dain reached his wife and pulled her tight into his arms.
Livie.God. She relaxed into his chest, her hands clutching at him, the sound of her breathing blocking out everything in the world but her. Nothing and no one mattered but the woman in his arms. The woman he’d almost lost.
“You’re lucky I don’t kill that motherfucker myself,” he muttered in her ear, rocking gently. “Only reason I don’t is because maiming hurts longer, and Elliot already did the damn job for me.” Derrick writhed on the floor nearby, howling and clutching his shoulder. Elliot had good aim.
“That’s my Dain,” Livie said. He could feel the wetness of her tears on his neck, feel the shaking of her body, but her lips curled into a smile against his skin. “We’re going to have to talk about your language before the baby comes,” she whispered. Goose bumps shimmered cross his neck at the rasp of her lips.
“Talk all you want, wife,” he told her hoarsely. “As long as you’re in my arms, talk all you want.”
