Page 126 of A Captive Situation

Lane grunted. “Not quite.”

Jake made a noncommittal sound, his lips pressed together. “Psychopath. Good to know.”

I was bouncing between them. What did this all mean?

Jake went back to being Mr. Killer Man, but the random question got Lane’s attention. His gaze lingered on my man, a different look starting to edge into his gaze. I couldn’t place it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to even try, but he kept studying Jake.

“This was supposed to be a suicide mission, wasn’t it?” Lane could not look away from Jake. It was as if he were a new puzzle to him. “Killing me was the only way to ensure those you love would live.”

Jake didn’t reply. I could feel the tension and anger rolling off him in waves. It was filling the warehouse up, adding and doubling when it was meeting the tension from the rest of the men. All the men. All with guns. All pointed at us, and we were holding off certain death with Jake’s shooting skills.

If we got out of this, the first thing we were doing was booking our trip to Tahiti. Ireallywanted to fuck my man right now. And then we’d talk about this fucking asinine suicide mission, becausewhat the fuck? I was finally living my life, and he was going to end his?

I don’t fucking think so.

He couldn’t give me the sun andtake it back.

Everything stopped in the next breath because Lane said, “I’m going to call your bluff.” He began to raise his gun.

My stomach dropped.

Then two things happened at once.

A minivan roared into the warehouse, and I pulled the trigger.

Chapter Forty-Four

Jake

Sawyer shot Lane.

Holy shit.

He stepped to the side as the minivan burst inside the warehouse, at the same exact time Sawyer pulled her trigger so her bullet grazed him.

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck.

She almost shot him. She did shoot him. She could’ve killed him.

He didn’t even wince as the bullet skimmed the side of his arm. He just stopped in his tracks and fixed Sawyer with an impenetrable darkness. Murder. He was going to kill her.

No.

No, he would not.

But as the three of us were holding in our death-off, the door for the minivan opened. The cast ofGooniesspilled out of the minivan. It wasn’t the actual cast, but it was the same effect, as two dogs, four women who were pushing slightly older than middle age, two guys, and Blake Green flooded from the vehicle.

Later I would contemplate how all of them fit in there. Now, I wasn’t the only one caught off-guard. The four older women all had different weapons in their hands and they ran right toward Lane’s men. One was throwing out nunchucks. What the—I couldn’t even finish that thought.

Lane’s gaze zeroed in on Sawyer.

He began to raise his gun again.

So did I, and I was moving before he could pull the trigger. My feet took me to stand in front of Sawyer. I wanted to pull the trigger. My finger was itching to do it. It’d be so easy. I’d done it before. My blood was pumping fast through my body.

At the same time, Blake’s voice yelled over everyone. “Don’t! Don’t shoot.Stop.” She screamed, making her voice break. She looked as if she were trying to literally stop the bullets from passing through air, as if she had that power.

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