Page 36 of Tempting the Bounty Hunter

Oh shit.

“Wrong move, bitch.” He cocks his gun. The click ricochets to my bones.

“Let her go.” Dane’s voice cuts through the air like a sword. “Now.”

I blink, trying to clear my vision as relief mixes with my fear. Standing at the bottom of the staircase, he has his arm clamped around Eddie’s neck.

Eddie’s hands are up, his face reddening as Dane tightens his grip and cuts off his air supply.

“Do it,” Dane orders, ramming his Glock against Eddie’s temple.

Eddie nods at Lucas, who shoves me away. Before I can stumble to the kitchen, a loud crash echoes through the whole house. Glass breaks. Wood splinters.

A gunshot splits the air.

“Hannah, get down!” Dane shouts.

I hit the floor, covering my head with my arms, my heart hammering with terror. The world spins. Selina screams. I turn, trying to figure out where she is, praying to everything holy that the bullet didn’t hit her.

A series of bullets fires in a staccato rhythm. From under my arm, I catch sight of Dane releasing Eddie and rushing toward me.

“Hannah.”

I reach for him. He grunts and falls heavily to the floor. Footsteps shake the floorboards. I push to my knees, trying to crawl in his direction. I can’t see. Something pierces my face, and pain radiates down my chest.

The men are shouting, but I can’t make out their words. Another massive crash comes from the back of the house like someone is ripping the door off.

Dane closes his hands around my shoulders. A choked cry pushes into my throat. He hauls me around the side of the staircase.

He locks his arms around me and puts his hand on the back of my head, pressing my face into his chest.

“I’ve got you.” His voice is like the deepest part of the earth, the place nothing and no one can touch. “Stay quiet.”

I gulp down my sobs. “Selina.”

“I’ll get her back for you. I promise.”He touches the side of my face, which is wet with a mixture of tears and blood. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “My mother, Dane. Please.”

“I know, baby.” He unlatches his arms from me, his body a wall of tension and reluctance. “Stay here. Don’t move an inch, you hear me?”

I nod, desperate for him both to stay and to leave. He makes his way back to the living room.

I scrub my face with the back of my hands. My heart has kicked back into gear, but I can’t stop the images of my mother lying on the floor, bleeding and helpless.

When another loud bang shatters the air, I flinch and huddle against the wall. Blue and red lights flash outside the dirty windows. The shouts filter past the ringing in my ears.

“Police!”

“Hands up! Hands up!”

What the…?

Dust and shards of wood fall from the ceiling. More bullets.

“Drop your weapons!”

The loud commands reverberate through me. Chaos erupts in the other rooms—gunfire, yelling, the wail of a siren. I peer around the corner.

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