Page 57 of Girl Lost
He did not want to kill anyone else tonight. He wanted answers.
His hand went to his pocket and closed around the molded grip of his ASP baton. He snapped it open. Twenty-one inches of hardened steel. Ready.
Corbin shifted his stance, falling into a defensive posture. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, each inhale sending a stab of pain through his ribs and side.
The attacker staggered to his feet, clutching his stomach. He glared at Luna. “You little—” He lunged, grabbing Luna by the hair and pulling her into his arms. The knife pressed against her throat.
Corbin froze, his heart a drum in his chest.
Luna’s eyes met his. A message there.Trust me.
His fist tightened around the baton. Every muscle in his body screamed to attack, but the knife ... So close to Luna’s carotid. He couldn’t risk it.
Luna’s gaze flicked down. To Hitch’s feet. Then back to Corbin’s eyes.
She shifted to her right and slammed both elbows back, connecting with the man’s ribs. She twisted, using the momentum to pull away, ducking under his arm. Her leg whipped up in a roundhouse kick to Hitch’s temple.
Corbin pivoted on his left foot, driving all his weight forward. The baton struck Hitch’s knee. The same knee that had given Hitch his distinctive gait. Solid impact.
Hitch dropped like a stone. A strangled cry ripped from the man’s throat. One arm reached out, grasping at the asphalt as if trying to hold onto something solid, something real.
For a moment, Hitch locked eyes with him and Corbin saw the realization dawn. This wasn’t going to plan. Whatever that plan was.
Movement made Corbin glance up.
The man Luna had KO’d stirred, pushing himself up on shaky arms. Corbin’s heart sank as he watched Number Three’s hand close around something on the ground. The streetlight glinted off metal, and he recognized the distinctive shape of a gun.
“Luna, move!” He scrambled for cover behind a parked sedan.
A crack.
The rush of air as a round whizzed past.
The shower of glass raining down on his head.
He crouched lower and pressed himself against the cool metal of the vehicle, willing his racing heart to slow. Shards crunched under his feet as he shifted position.
Where was Luna? He couldn’t see her. Had she found cover?Was she hit? He strained his ears, trying to pick up any sound that might give him a clue to either her location or the gunman’s.
Another gunshot. The sound jolted him, shattering his focus. Luna. Was she hit? Was she firing? He couldn’t tell.
Corbin crouch-walked toward Number Three. In the darkness he saw Hitch on his feet, hobbling away. He melted into the shadows between parked cars. Corbin started to give chase, but a bullet exploded the sideview mirror beside his head. Bits of plastic flew into his face, his hair.
He dropped to his belly and saw Luna flat on her stomach on the other side of the car.
For a moment, they lay there. The only sound was their ragged breathing. The dim orange glow from a nearby parking light spilled across the asphalt between them, just enough for Corbin to make out Luna’s face beneath the car. A mix of exhaustion and adrenaline in her eyes.
He pointed to himself, then to Luna.
She nodded.
Using his forearms and the sides of his feet, he combat-crawled, inching his way around the car. The cut on his side burned like fire, but he kept moving. When he reached Luna, he whispered, “You okay?”
“I’ll live, but I think he’s got my gun.” They were close. Close enough to feel her breath mingle with his. “We need to get out of here.”
He swallowed. “Yeah, let’s give it a minute.”
Two minutes passed. Five.
