Page 79 of Tactical Lies

Completely.

With everything.

Including her heart.

Despite everything else, Becca smiled. It felt so good to trust Connor again, to know that things were back to how they’d been before, how they were always supposed to be.

She would survive this.

She had to.

It didn’t matter what the odds were, she had to survive because she had to say the words, had to tell Connor she trusted him again and she absolutely wanted to give him a second chance.

Determination flooded her system, and when the gun man stepped up close to her, nudging her chin, she met his eye squarely. She was still terrified, but she wasn't giving up and she wasn't giving in. Everything they took from her they were going to have to fight for.

“What are you smiling about, girl? You like the idea of playing with my gun as much as I do?” he taunted, dragging the tip of the weapon down her cheek and along her neck to her chest. He circled both her breasts and then pressed the muzzle above her heart.

While her heart rate increased, she maintained his gaze.

She wasn't backing down.

Connor was out there fighting for her, she was going to do the same in there.

“Cocky, Ridge, Mad, Dingo, go outside and check the damage, I don’t want this cabin falling down around us, so we have to wait out the storm in the rain,” the guy in charge ordered.

Please let the gun man be one of those he just mentioned.

Of all of the men in the cabin, gun man was the biggest threat to her because she absolutely didn't want to play his sick games and get raped by his weapon.

But he wasn't one of the men who headed out the door, he was still standing in front of her, still holding his weapon pressed to her chest, still leering at her with that expression that made her skin crawl.

The door slammed shut, taking the wind with it, but leaving behind that icy chill.

If it was Connor who had taken down that branch, she had no doubt he was going to kill the four men who had just headed back out into the stormy night. But that still left these two inside with her.

Did she have what it took to kill them if she got a chance?

When the man had attacked her in the camp she’d acted on instinct, stabbed him before he could hurt her.

This would be much more premeditated.

“Can I untie her?” gun man asked.

“She’s scared, but she’s got that determined glint in her eyes that says she’s going to run if we give her a chance,” the leader replied as he strolled over to her chair and studied her like she was a specimen under a microscope.

“So, I’ll make it so she can't run,” gun man said, and he lowered the weapon and knelt before her. “Don’t think you’ll be needing this.” Removing her prosthetic, he flung it across the cabin, laughing when it hit the wall and bounced to the floor over by the fireplace.

Damn it.

He had stolen her ability to run.

She could hop on one leg, but she was easily catchable, and there was no way she could hop her way to safety outside in that storm with the ground so muddy and slippery.

“Problem solved,” gun man sing-songed, and when the leader shrugged and drifted away to the kitchen, he made quick work of untying her other bonds.

Excitement danced through her blood.

He’d made a mistake.

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