Page 53 of Unexpected Redemption

My nausea comes rushing back, making me gag. I cup my neck to reassure my brain that my throat is just fine.

From the corner of my eye, I glimpse the other Redleg guys racing through the house, guns extended. They’re opening closets, checking behind doors, under beds, and behind shower curtains.

I recognize Shep’s voice calling out that his room is clear. Kri’s hand squeezes mine.

The guys provide a series of quick updates in much the same manner.

“Bedrooms on east side are clear.”

“Kitchen clear.”

“West bedroom and bathroom clear.”

“Dining room clear.”

Big Al taps the back of Mia’s chair. “Tell Sawyer to get ready.”

“10-4,” Mia responds, then clicks something on the console. “Sawyer, you’re up.”

“Copy that.”

Wait. What’s happening? He’s up for what?

My vision snaps on Sawyer’s body cam view. With a burst of speed, he returns to the living room, heading for the recliner where Tomer has Yev pinned beneath him. There’s a bit of a struggle.

Another Redleg guy works to restrain Yev’s legs with thick duct tape around the ankles.

“Easy, T,” Big Al whispers, despite not being on the comms.

My eyes refocus on Tomer’s vantage, giving me a close-up view of Yev’s beady eyes bulging and his face reddening.

Familiar hands grip his neck.Tightly.

Shit. Tomer’s choking him.

“Come on, babe,” I mumble.

On one hand, I’m happy to see Tomer get some of his anger out at an incredibly fitting target. And have no problem watching the suffering of that disgusting excuse for a human. In fact, it feels damn good.

But I don’t want Tomer to kill anyone. He doesn’t need that on his conscience.

It seems Big Al, Mia, and Sawyer discussed this possibility and are ready to intervene.

“Tomer, ease up,” Mia warns over the comms.

“I’m good,” he grits out, voice menacing but surprisingly controlled. “I’m not killing him. Not yet. I only want to ensure he knows how fucked he is before I knock him out.”

He loosens the hold on Yev’s neck. Out of nowhere, an elbow flies up toward Yev’s face, knocking him under the chin and flailing his head backward.

And he’s out cold.

Tomer stands, towering over Yev. His breaths are so raspy they sail through the speakers as loudly as the vocal updates everyone is hollering.

“Tango down,” Klein announces. “Sawyer and Henderson, retrieve the vehicles. Double time it. Prepare to exfil in 90 seconds.”

Those two run off.

As I watch Tomer tying Yev’s wrists and forearms behind him, it’s so familiar Iwantto laugh, but I hold it in. I know firsthand how good he is with ropes.

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