Page 174 of One Wrong Move

Boom. Boom.

Deckard’s gun.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

To his nine.

Someone had come out of the house.

Gunfire exchanged, his heart racing for Andi and Riley.

The ladies slid on the ground beside him, and he uttered a prayer of thanks. Relief swirled inside like a wave rocking nausea through his gut. That was too close.

But this wasn’t over yet. They still had Cyrus, Teresa, and an unknown in the house, and a van no doubt full of treasure.

Cyrus, Teresa, and the third unfriendly had two choices. Hole up in the house or move. The answer was always move. They were going to breach the door and come out firing. He doubted, in all the commotion, they realized the tires were flat. They wouldn’t be going anywhere unless they had another vehicle stashed somewhere, but they’d have to come out to reach it.

“They’re moving!” Harper barked. “Out front.”

Christian fired.

Boom. Boom.

A man hollered.

“Cyrus is down,” Deckard said.

One down. Two to go.

Christian aimed his scope under the van. Two feet from the ankles down appeared, and he fired. A woman’s voice swore and hollered as she fell over, crashing to the ground.

Pop. Pop.

At his three.Harper.

Teresa’s bloody ankles drenched the white of her shoes crimson.

“She’s down. Two shot ankles, one shoulder. Her weapon fell out of reach unless she moves.”

“The man is still inside,” Deckard said. “I can see him moving in and out of a slit in the curtain. If he just stills.”

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Adrenaline surged in Christian’s limbs. Not his brother’s gun. The man was firing from the side of the house.

Silence.

Fear churned in his gut.Please let Deckard be okay.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Thank you, Lord.

“He’s down,” Deckard said after a moment.

“Access to weapon, or unknown?” Christian asked, needing to know before he gave the order to move in.

“He won’t be reaching for anything,” Deckard said as black Tahoes rolled down the road, dust kicking up behind them.

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