Page 60 of Unchained

Someone cursed.

“I’m coming in.” Cole’s declaration made Brooks clench his teeth. This woman—a mother—didn’t deserve to die because of her association with Conrad.

“There’s no reason we can’t leave now.” Even as he said the words, they stuck in his mouth. For a millisecond, his mask had been up. But she’d closed her eyes damn fast, and it was doubtful she’d made out many of his features in the dim light. Plus, she’d just seen her lover shot—the intensity of the scene would likely work in his favor.

“All three guards are headed your way.” Dare’s warning echoed against his eardrum.

“Sonofabitch!” Nash yelled.

Brooks lurched forward, grabbed the woman by the wrist, sheet and all, and towed her to the en suite bathroom. “Get in here and stay down. Don’t do a fucking thing and you’ll live, all right?”

She nodded wildly, her blonde, ear-length hair bobbing with the movement. Her wide brown eyes filled with tears. “Is he dead?”

He pushed her inside the marble room and closed the door, simultaneously shutting off his compassion. Not his fucking problem that she cared for a sick bastard like Conrad.

Nash stood next to Conrad, his gloved fingers pressed against his throat. There was enough blood on the wall, sheets, and floor to make it pretty evident Conrad couldn’t be saved.

Nash lifted his gaze. “Dead.” His voice was tight, as if the word was hard to speak.

Conrad had raised Nash, but he’d also tried to kill Lexi. Brooks shook his head. Nash’s feelings weren’t something to investigate right now. Indecision buzzed through his senses. Being a sitting duck wasn’t an option. And it was clear his body was still drawing off the drug in his system, given the ease with which he’d hopped the fence. He couldn’t let Nash take the brunt of any bullets. Making a beeline for the bedroom door, he yanked it open.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs. The guards.

“All right, boys,” Dare said, caution thickening his tone. “All I can do from here is create technical difficulties. It’s about to get dark. Get your asses out of there.”

Whomp

The lights turned off. In a split second, Brooks’s eyes adjusted. Another helpful side effect.

“What the—?” The guard’s yelp from the staircase bounced off the cathedral ceiling. Brooks charged. He balanced his weight on the balls of his feet as he reached the top of the stairs. Three men hovered halfway up.

“Wally, check the fuse box. Jeff, call for backup.” A flashlight’s beam lit the stairs, hitting Brooks in the chest.

Brooks smiled. His gaze locked on a bald guard, and he advanced.

“Shit!”

Brooks drove a punch into the guard’s face. The man staggered backward and stumbled down a few steps, his flashlight careening out of his hold. He landed on his knees, gripping the railing. The other man, Jeff, lunged forward. Brooks grabbed the scruff of his neck, hefting him into the air. A weight struck Brooks’s midsection. He coughed and staggered backward as the bald guard tackled him.

“Wally!” Jeff shouted. “Call for backup!”

Pop! Pop! Pop!

The weight against his abdomen went limp. Jeff jolted in Brooks’s hold, a gurgling sound coming from his mouth. Hot, wet liquid ran over Brooks’s hand.

A rough fist caught his bicep. “Where’s Nash?” Cole whispered.

“Here.” Nash rushed up behind them. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“The woman?” Cole asked.

Nash shook his head. “She’s alive.”

Cole’s face turned hard as slate. “Get outside.” He moved upstairs, brushing past Brooks. Brooks snagged his elbow in a death grip.

“We’re leaving. All of us.”

Cole’s face drew close to his, determined. Without his advanced night vision, Brooks wouldn’t have been able to see the unrelenting slash of Cole’s lips, but it was there. “I don’t leave loose ends.”

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