Page 103 of Forged in Peril

He gritted his teeth, staring at her, not wanting to take the bait.

She was mocking him. She’d been in control the entire time, and they both knew it.

He had to think, but every time his eye caught Bristol’s terrified face, he felt himself falling into panic.

He had to do something. He had to get her out.

This was his fault. If he had listened to her from the beginning, she might have come to him. He or his brothers could have searched for evidence and gotten ahead of the bombing plot.

He could have protected her, he could have–

The sound of shattering glass filled his ears.

He braced for a gunshot, his hands slick with sweat against his own weapon, but there was none. For a split second there was only quiet and confusion.

He had just enough time to look up and see the surprise on Jaclyn’s face before the immense bang that followed.

Blinding light burned against his retinas, forcing his eyes shut as he dove toward the ground, covering his hands with his ears far too late.

The smell of smoke burned in his nostrils, obscuring what little he could see through the splotches of light that lingered in his field of vision.

His head felt like his brain had been shaken loose and left rattling around his skull.

A flashbang.

One of their guys must have snuck into the outer office and tossed it in through the window in Jaclyn’s door.

All he wanted to do was lay down and wait for his ears to stop ringing, but he didn’t have the luxury.

God had granted him a second or two before Bristol and Jaclyn would recover, and he had to take it.

He crawled a few feet across the floor and found Bristol.

Before Jaclyn could turn and see what he was doing, he’d gotten to his feet and dragged her with him, shoving her body behind his own.

He pointed his gun at Jaclyn as she got to her feet, coughing and rubbing at her ears, her eyes squeezed shut. He couldn’t see if she still held the gun, but he no longer cared.

He was wearing a bulletproof vest, and Bristol stood behind him.

She was safe.

All of a sudden he saw Ben’s hulking figure marching into view through the haze of smoke, his own gun raised.

Cam couldn’t hear the sound of doors opening, or footsteps, but he knew his brothers were there. He hoped that the hearing damage wasn’t permanent, but if it was, he’d consider it a small price to pay for his life, and for Bristol’s.

Reilly followed, marching right up to Jaclyn.

“We know how to innovate,” he said, training his gun on her as she struggled to her feet. “Drop your weapon, Jaclyn. It’s over.”

Cameron saw the gun then, still gripped in her hand.

But she was now pointing it at herself.

BRISTOL

Bristol pressed herself against Cameron’s back, leaning her weight against his own and trusting that he had more strength than she did to hold her steady.

Everything hurt, and she’d never been so tired in her life.

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