Page 95 of Second First Kiss

“No.” Her tone was a clear yes.

He jerked her closer and Tessa yelped with fear.

Time was up. Nolan wasn’t going to make it. Besides, Kat had never needed to wait for a man. She was a bad-ass ballbuster who didn’t hit like a girl, threw punches like a pro.

Kat stepped out from the shadows and puffed up to her full size. “Let her go,” she demanded in her scariest voice.

“You called her?” R. J. hissed at Tessa. “What happened to believing in me? You saw me in the shed, didn’t you?”

“She didn’t see anything. And even if she did, we won’t say a word,” Kat said, lifting her hands in peace and slowly walking toward her sister.

“I’m sorry,” Tessa whispered to Kat.

“It’s going to be okay,” Kat reassured her. “Right, R. J.? Everything is going to be okay.”

“Stop moving,” R. J. said.

Kat kept moving, but slowed her pace.

“I said stop!” he shouted.

And that’s when things went to shit.

Before Kat knew what was happening, the sun glistened off the metal barrel of a gun that R. J. pulled from the back of his waistband. He still had one hand on Tessa and the other on his gun—a gun she’d bet the house was Eli’s.

“Whoa. Okay, I’m not moving.”

R. J. was clearly amped up on adrenaline and unsure of his next move because he kept swinging the gun between the sisters, his twitchy finger on the trigger. Whatever he’d been looking for, clearly he hadn’t anticipated anyone being home. He was in way over his head, and he was starting to see that. Desperation crept up his expression like the acid in Kat’s stomach. Desperate men did desperate things.

“Just point that thing at me,” Kat said, sounding like she’d put on her big girl panties that morning when all she really wanted to do was go back to bed and hide. But she needed to be strong—show no fear. “And let my sister go.”

When he looked confused, and panic filled his eyes, Kat lifted her hands higher to make herself the bigger target. She’d take a bullet if it meant her sister got away. Her tactic worked because he kept the weapon pointed at Kat.

“Now let us go. Right now, nothing has happened. You can walk and no one will be the wiser. We won’t say a thing.”

He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, sweat dotting his forehead as if he’d never in a million years imagined this scenario. His arm was shaking and he kept blinking like the scenery would somehow change. He wiped a hand over his forehead and Kat saw her moment.

“Run!” Kat screamed.

Tessa yanked her arm free and raced away from R. J. while Kat ran forcefully into danger. Going at full tilt, she lowered her shoulder and prepared for impact. When she made contact with his chest, it felt as if she’d slammed into a brick wall, but she blasted him with enough power to send him tumbling backward onto his ass, cracking his head on the ground and sending the gun flying backward.

Kat took the element of surprise to leap onto him and sucker punch him right in the nose. It felt like hitting a boulder, but it was followed by a loud crack and a piercing “Fucking bitch!”

She’d busted his nose—and her hand in the process.

R. J. recoiled his arm and went in for a swing, but Kat dodged most of the blow with her elbow. She still saw stars for a moment but kept her bearings long enough to deliver a swift knee to the nuts that had R. J. rolling over in agony. It was in that split second that Kat scrambled toward the gun, sharp gravel cutting into her knees and palms.

A rough hand clamped down on her ankle, yanking her back with a searing pain, but she kicked with her other foot, making contact with, well, she wasn’t sure, but R. J.’s shout let her know she’d hit a tender spot. She didn’t hesitate and crawled forward another few feet and snatched the gun, rolling over and aiming it at his head right as he’d regained his bearings and stood over her like a WWE champion readying to deliver a smackdown.

He moved as if to lunge at her and she held the gun with both hands to steady it, since her right hand was likely broken.

“I will shoot and you know it,” Kat said, not even flinching at the idea of taking the life of someone who was considering taking her sister’s.

“Back up and lay on your belly,” she ordered. Then to her sister, “Tessa, get some rope from Grandpa’s fishing box.”

Kat kicked R. J. in the side. “You little prick. That’s for Bette Davis. And this is for my sister.” He grunted at the blow to his ribs.

“Um, Kat?” Tessa said.

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