Page 15 of Turn the Tide
He’d kill them.
“Hey. Sampson’s wondering why you guys haven’t checked in.” He shook his head and forced an approximation of a chuckle, ignoring the almost comically puzzled expressions on the guys’ faces. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”
“Uh…” One man hesitated, glanced from him to the other, then down at Zoe. She’d gone still. To protect herself, he hoped, like an animal playing dead, rather than for a more sinister reason. “Yeah.”
“Come on, man,” Eric went on. “Get her up so we can bring her in.”
“You—” While the first guy tried to make sense of things, the taller one stepped forward, eyes narrowed, and drew a weapon. Nasal Voice wasn’t as dumb as he looked. “Who the fuck areyou?”
Don’t ever hesitate, Eric’s training told him.Be cocky. Be an asshole.“I’m your backup, dickwad.”
The confidence in those words was enough to make the gun waver, lowering slightly. Nasal Voice went on. “Where’d…” He looked over Eric’s shoulder as if seeking confirmation, then down at his body. “Why are you—”
Eric had no idea what the guy was about to say. Sopping wet, maybe? Alone? Unarmed, barefoot, and shirtless when these douches were kitted out in full-on tactical gear? Didn’t matter what he’d been thinking, because Eric didn’t give him a chance to get it out. He bent one knee, slid forward, and swept the man’s legs out from under him before he had time to get off a shot. A second later, Eric disarmed him.
Whoa.Adrenaline flooded his body as he flipped back up to his feet, weapon in hand. Fuck, it felt good. Like crack, he imagined. And like a junkie, he’d given up his drug long ago, but had never gotten enough.
As Eric delivered Nasal Voice a quick, debilitating kick to the solar plexus, the second guy—perhaps the smarter of the two, after all—turned tail and ran.
Ignore him for now, that tactical voice whispered.Deal with the current threat, then reevaluate.
“You okay?” he asked Zoe, keeping the gun—and his eyes—trained on the asshole.
“I…” Slowly, she turned onto all fours, then made her way to sitting. For a long beat, she watched him, a puzzled crease between her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“Where’s it hurt?”
She put a hand to the side of her head. “All over.”
“Can you get up?”
She crawled a few feet farther from where her attacker lay and, using the wall, made it to her feet.
Eric saw red. He turned his ire on the asshole just now getting his breath back. “I will fucking kill you.”
No. No. No more killing. No killing.
“Just doin’”—the guy gasped—“my job.”
“Take off your shirt.”
“What are—”
“Take it off.” Eric straightened, every muscle lining up, ready for more. As the guy drew his shirt over his head, Eric glanced back to Zoe. She watched him closely and, in a moment of clarity, he saw how little she trusted even him right now. What the hell must she think of this situation, with him showing up out of the blue?
A fresh wave of anger hardened his voice into steel—as rusted out and dangerous as the hull of this rig. “Flat on your belly.Now.”
The dude knew the drill. In seconds, he was laid out like a fish, hands behind his back.
Eric yanked the man’s shoes off and handed them to Zoe. “Pull the laces out of those.” Not a question, an order. It was how to get stuff done when shit hit the fan.
She did it and handed the laces over.
Eric put his weight on the other man’s back and tied him up, probably tighter than he had to, before taking another look around.
“They lock you up someplace?”
“Way down there.” She pointed at a hall door a few yards away.
