Page 69 of Once Removed (Blackhawk Security)

He glanced around wildly, looking for a weapon. Saw it on the second pass.

The rope he’d tossed behind Lainey’s seat trailed out of the truck’s open door, coiling on the pavement. Had she tried to grab it to use against Larsen?

Didn’t matter. He could use that rope.

Brody duck-walked to the door, reached inside and curled his hand around the coiled rope. His hands shaking, he tied a small noose at one end, then slid the other end through it. Coiled it the way he’d done so many times.

Even though it had been at least a year since he’d swung a rope at a running calf, his hands steadied with the muscle memory of his movements.

Glancing toward the silver SUV, he was relieved that Mel and Devlin had stayed down behind the vehicle. He nodded at them, hoping they understood they needed to stay where they were.

Drawing a deep breath, then another, he slid toward the front of the truck, his boots crunching on the broken glass that covered the asphalt. Finally, his hands settling on the right positions on the rope, he reached the front of the truck and stood up.

Lainey’s eyes flickered when she saw him, but otherwise she didn’t react. Larsen had moved closer to Lainey and he turned her around, shoving her toward the trees.

Brody would only have one chance. If he missed, Larsen would be spooked. He might even use that knife on Lainey. But Brody didn’t have a choice. If Larsen got her into those trees, it would be very difficult to get her away from him.

Brody took a deep breath. Let it out. Took another and squared his shoulders. Swinging the rope the way he always did, he sent the noose sailing silently toward Larsen.

Brody held his breath as the rope flew through the air and settled over Larsen’s head. As soon as it slid past his shoulders, Brody yanked on the rope. It tightened around Larsen’s arms and yanked him backward, his arms pinned to his sides. He stumbled a few steps, and Brody yanked on the rope again.

Without his arms to balance him, Larsen flew backwards and tumbled onto his back, skidding over the pavement. When he hit the pavement, the knife bounced out of his hand and flew off to the side. Lainey scrambled over to it. Kicked it into the weeds along the side of the road.

By the time she’d turned, Brody had run over to Larsen. As the man screamed obscenities at him, Brody flipped him over and used the rope to tie his hands together. Then his ankles.

Just like he’d secure a roped calf. Front legs, back legs.

He stepped away from Larsen and saw Lainey on the side of the road. She’d wrapped her arms around herself, but he saw her shaking. Leaping for her, Brody pulled her into his arms.

“Lainey,” he cried, smoothing his hand down her back. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” He buried his face in her hair and drank in her scent. He could have lost her today.

Her voice shaky, Lainey said, “I’m fine now. But… but I was so scared,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “When I wouldn’t unlock the door, he blew out your windshield. Thank God I’d crouched on the floor. Told me that the next shot would be into me. And I believed him.”

Brody held her away from him and scanned her body, sucking in a breath when he saw a streak of blood on her forehead. “He did hurt you,” he growled, turning to kick Larsen.

“No,” she said, grabbing for Brody. She put her hands on his chest to keep him away from Larsen. “That was flying glass from the windshield. I probably have a few other cuts. But that’s it. I’m not hurt.”

Brody ran his hands over her arms. Her torso. Her legs. “We need to get your clothes off,” he said, beginning to unbutton her blouse. “Look for pieces of glass. Make sure they don’t cut into you.”

Lainey pushed his hands away. “Stop, Brody.” She nodded toward the compound. “We have company.”

Brody swung around and saw Mel and Devlin standing beside their SUV. He’d forgotten all about them. “Come on over,” he called. “Larsen’s secure.”

They walked over, Mel studying him. Finally she shook her head. “Impressive piece of roping, Jones.”

He shrugged. “Muscle memory.”

“I bet you were a hell of a rodeo competitor.”

Brody frowned. Her license plate had been Washington DC. “How do you know about rodeos?” he asked.

She smiled. “I know lots of things, Jones.”

Curling his arm around Lainey, he said, “Lainey, this is Mel, the woman I told you about. And her partner, Devlin.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lainey said, her voice wooden. Flat.

As the four of them stood there awkwardly, the wail of a siren cut through the silence. “The sheriff,” Brody said, taking a deep breath. “You’ll need to give your statements,” he said to Mel and Devlin. “But if you want more information about the compound and what happened here, you’re welcome to stop at my place. The Flying J ranch.” He nodded toward the ranch. “About five miles further east.”

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