Page 72 of Deny Me
Now where was Elliot hiding?
Hugh noticed the addition and blanched, pointing the gun back at Sophia’s head. While his attention was on King’s teammates, King eased forward, trying to get to Charlotte to pull her behind him.
“Get back,” Hugh yelled over Sophia’s screams. “She’s mine. We’re leaving, and you can’t stop me!”
King moved up behind Charlotte, praying she wouldn’t startle when he touched her. His hands settled on her hips as Saint and Dain walked closer, tightening the noose on Hugh between them.
“Charlotte.” The word was barely a whisper, but King knew she heard it. She gave him a nod, but when he pulled to get her moving, get her behind him, she resisted.
“Charlotte—”
“Stay back!” Hugh glanced frantically between one end of the corridor and the other, desperation rising in his eyes.
King pulled harder on Charlotte. She stumbled back one step but braced against another. “Sophia!”
Hugh jerked his head around at her shout, and King could see the moment his decision was made.
“No!” He tightened his hold on Charlotte and pulled her against him, began to turn them around, put himself between her and Hugh.
The gun went off.
A shock of fire and agony blazed through his side at the same time Charlotte gasped, choking out his name.
They both went down.
Chapter Thirty-Two
She hurt. Oh God, she hurt. So bad she couldn’t breathe, but there was a reason she needed to breathe. What was it?
“Sophia…”
Hugh had shot them. He’d killed Wes.
He had Sophia.
King groaned behind her as he rolled onto his back. Charlotte rolled too, onto her stomach to try and get up. Agony shot through her.
From the corner of her eye she saw a large form run past—Hugh, holding a crying Sophia.
She struggled to her knees. “No!”
“I don’t think you want to do that,” a voice said. It took Charlotte a moment to figure out whoever it was wasn’t speaking to her, that it was Elliot, that she was near the elevators. A glance up showed Hugh standing at the open door, one foot in front of the other as if to walk into the elevator. Elliot was right against his back, one arm around him, gripping the back of Sophia’s onesie, the other…
Charlotte squinted, not sure what she was seeing. Elliot’s hand was…between them. What was she doing?
She held her breath.
Elliot was grinning, of all things. Charlotte couldn’t figure that one out, but whatever she was up to, it was making Hugh sweat. The man was barely breathing as he held completely still, half in and half out of the elevator, Sophia still in one arm like a football he’d caught and hurried toward the goalpost.
“Remember that little story I told the other night,” Elliot breathed in Hugh’s ear. “The one about my father and what I did to him?”
Hugh gasped. “Let me go.”
Elliot’s arm twitched, and Hugh jumped. “Please!”
“I meant what I said about filleting him,” Elliot continued as if Hugh had never spoken. “I’m very, very good with a knife. Wanna see?”
“No! No, don’t!”
