Page 165 of House of Payne
He’s not wrong to be afraid, but I also know he’s not stupid.
There are three of us and one of him.
It doesn’t play out any other way, even with him holding London hostage.
She’s his Hail Mary, and he knows it.
I raise an eyebrow. “Then you also know it’ll be worse if you don’t let her go.”
Lance takes a step back and presses the gun harder against London’s skin, but she doesn’t flinch.
It makes me even more afraid for her.
I don’t like the crazed look in Lance’s eyes, and I realize how desperate he is.
Desperate men do crazy things. You can’t let it get that far, or who knows what he’ll do to London? Take control of the situation. Now.
“I don’t fucking believe you,” Lance responds. “As long as I have her, you won’t touch me.”
London groans as he pulls her backward. Fear and panic war within her, but she keeps her head held high and glances at a spot over my shoulder. A heartbeat later, her face goes smooth, and I wonder if she’s resigning herself to her fate or praying for a way out.
I’m not the miracle she prayed for, but I’m the one she’s stuck with.
A few moments pass while my mind whirls. Then, Katia comes around the corner, silently running toward me, and skids to a halt.
No one says anything else while I stand there, ignoring the pounding in the back of my skull.
They’re all waiting for me to make a move, to decide how the night plays out.
London’s fate shouldn’t be in my hands, but what choice does she have?
I take another step forward, and Lance uses his free hand to press down on London’s gash, earning a whimper in response. “I’m warningyou, Payne. Don’t do anything fucking stupid.”
“That’s your specialty,” I tell him. “We both know this is over. Do yourself a favor, Lance, and choose a better side next time.”
“As if there’ll be a next time,” Lance mutters.
I take another step forward, and in one fluid move, I shoot him in the leg. His face contorts in anger and disbelief as he loses his grip on London. He flails for a few seconds, the blood draining from his face as he sways. Then, an arm darts out and knocks London sideways, causing her to fall to a heap on the floor.
My heart is in my throat as I step over Lance, pausing to give him a few good kicks to the side. Then I kneel beside London, relief flooding my system as I prop her up. Her eyes are filled with tears, and her voice is muffled. She squirms against the restraints, and I reach for her hands. Before I’m done untying her, there’s a scuffle behind me.
I wheel around, but I’m too slow.
When I blink, Katia is standing over me, a stunned look on her face. She glances down as a crimson stain appears on her side. She presses two fingers there, rubs them together, and frowns. I fumble for the gun and aim it at Lance, who is standing behind her, heaving, his teeth covered in blood. I fire, and Carlisle charges Lance and tackles him. I fire another bullet into Lance’s injured leg, and he twists and howls in pain. Growling, I kick the gun from his hands and give him another kick to the side, earning a grunt of pain.
Carlisle lifts Lance by the scruff of his neck and brings his face up. “You’re going to pay for that, you piece of shit.”
Lance offers him a bloody smile and says nothing.
I turn to Katia, and she catches my gaze for a long moment before her knees give out, and she sinks to the ground.
I catch her before she hits the pavement. “What the fuck did you do?”
“My job.” Katia’s voice is strained. “We need to get out of here.”
“Damn straight.” I throw her arm around my shoulders and rise tomy feet. I shoot Carlisle a quick look. “Take Katia, and let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Wordlessly, Carlisle takes Katia from me, and I help London to her feet.
