Page 72 of In Her Sights
Molly gave an amused snort and was amazed. Only John could make her laugh while chasing a bomb-loving skip. No wonder she loved him so much.
Sonny darted to the left, and Molly sped up, not wanting to lose sight of him. In this maze of a building, it’d be almost impossible to find him again if he disappeared. As soon as she turned down the hallway after him, she dug deep and sprinted even faster. An exit sign lit up the darkness with an eerie green light.
They couldn’t let him get outside. Once he’d left the warehouse, there was nothing to keep him from blowing the entire thing to pieces.
John must’ve had the same thought, because he put on a burst of speed, his long, powerful legs churning as he pulled in front of her. In the dim light of the sign, Molly saw Sonny come to a skidding stop halfway down the corridor. He dug in his pocket, and she flinched, expecting another detonator, but a small flame flared from the object instead. A lighter. She felt relieved for a fraction of a second before she realized that a lighter was just as effective as a detonator.
Bending down, he touched the flame to the end of a fuse. As soon as it lit, he dropped the lighter and took off for the exit door again. The fire ran quickly—too quickly—along the length of the fuse, and Molly felt her lungs freeze, refusing to suck in any oxygen. Time seemed to slow as her gaze locked on the flame. It felt surreal that such a tiny thing was going to kill them all.
“Got it.” John’s steady voice, so confident, allowed her to rip her gaze from the burning fuse, the world reorienting again. Despite his bruises and the blood streaking his skin, he was still the most beautiful person she’d ever seen. Just looking at him allowed her to breathe again.
Diving for the explosive device, John grabbed the lit end of the fuse in his fist, smothering the flame. She swallowed a protest as his unprotected hands wrapped around the fire. As he extinguished the burning fuse, her horror at his injuries was mixed with pride. Of course John Carmondy ignored his own pain to save her and her family. That was John. He was part of her family now. She loved him, just as he loved her, and they’d have each other’s backs. Always.
Trusting him to extinguish the fire and save them all yet again, Molly dashed past John and the explosives, putting on one final, impossible burst of speed.
Launching herself into the air, she flew toward Sonny as he reached for the door. For a terrible moment, she thought that she’d misjudged and would miss, but then her arms were wrapping around his lower legs, bringing him down just as effectively as a trip wire.
He hit the floor with an oof before immediately trying to crawl away. Filled with adrenaline- and rage-fueled strength, Molly flipped Sonny onto his back and started punching him, needing to punish him for what he’d tried to do to her family. As Sonny weakly tried to fend off the hits, she thought of the explosives strapped around Norah’s skinny waist and swung a solid punch.
Each time her fist connected with flesh, at every grunt and protest, she felt a sense of vicious satisfaction. She needed to make him pay in bruises and blood for every hurt her family had suffered because of him, every moment of terror they’d experienced. Her blows continued to rain down onto his body until he went limp, and still she swung, only stopping when John grabbed her by the waist and lifted her bodily off Sonny’s unconscious form.
Although she fought to get back to hit Sonny some more, most of her rage had been spent, and she subsided quickly, especially as she remembered the explosives. “Did you get the fuse out?”
“Are we in tiny, bloody pieces?” Although his words were joking, the way he clutched her against him and the slight shake in his voice were completely serious.
“Nice job.” Turning, she squeezed him back just as hard.
“Thanks.”
She pressed against him, appreciating the feeling of security she felt in his arms so much more after coming so close to losing him. Remembering his injuries, she pulled away, even as he tried to keep her tucked against him. Wiggling free, she flipped his hands over and examined the burns as well as she could in the dim light.
“Your poor hands.” She peered closer. “How bad is it? Are you in a lot of pain?”
He just shrugged—of course he did—and grinned at her, despite his poor, swollen mouth, looking much too happy for a guy who’d just had his face beaten and his hands fried. “I’m not feeling too much pain right now, but you can kiss them to make me feel better.”
Although his tone was joking, she did just that, pressing her lips carefully to the skin of his inner wrists, safely above the burned spots on his palms. His breath caught audibly at each touch, and all humor disappeared from his expression as he intently studied her for a long moment.
“Did you mean it?” he finally asked in a quiet voice. “I’ll understand if it was just fear and adrenaline talking.”
“Did I mean what?” she asked, meeting his serious gaze.
“Do you really love me?”
She didn’t even hesitate. “I do. So much it completely freaks me out.”
His laugh was a rough exhale, as if he’d been holding his breath. “Thank God, because I’m completely gone for you.” He pressed his lips to hers in an intense kiss filled with love and relief, and Molly returned it, the incredible feel of him blotting out everything else.
As much as she wanted to keep kissing John’s miraculously alive face forever, Sonny groaned and the real world returned. Reluctantly taking a step back and releasing John’s hands, Molly remembered Norah still had the explosives strapped around her waist. “Let’s get back.”
She moved toward Sonny, who was still limp despite the sound he’d just made, intending to swing him over her shoulders in a firefighter’s carry, but John got there first. Giving her a look, he hauled Sonny over his shoulder with obnoxious ease. “Let’s go.”
Molly ran back toward where they’d left her sisters, watching for any remaining traps, with John close behind her. As they turned out of the corridor, she stopped abruptly as she almost ran into Norah. Molly’s gaze immediately dropped to her sister’s waist—her wonderfully explosives-free waist.
“You got it off!” Grabbing Norah in a hard hug, she saw Cara beaming behind her. “How’d you manage that?”
“It involved taking off my pants and some careful maneuvering,” Norah said, squeezing Molly just as hard as she was being squeezed. “For once, I’m really glad my butt is nonexistent.”
“We need to let the cops in,” Cara said, shooing them toward the corridor they’d just left.
