“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Nate tilted his head. “Mind you, I’m not saying I’ve done nothing wrong, but I did give you those presents to make amends. Megan and Sally took something away from you when they fucked your man, so I took something from them and gave it back to you. Now everything’s square.”
Anna gritted her teeth to hold back a retch. Lowering her head and her gun at the same time she tried to fend off her queasiness. Her mind was racing even faster than her heart. How the hell was she going to take Nate down with Bobby in the line of fire? And where was Charlie? He was unarmed, and she didn’t want to think about what Nate might have done to him. Just as a dry heave she could no longer suppress roiled up inside her, she felt his hot breath on her neck.
Charlie.
A vicious pinch to her wrist, and her gun slid to the floor with a plop.
A punch in the back shot excruciating pain down her spine, and a kick knocked her feet out from under her. She landed on her back, and there they were, planted ominously in front of her face.
Hand-tooled black leather shafts. Silver hornback alligator vamps.
Boots.
Boots bent, grabbed her by the hair, and blew his foul, liquor-soaked breath in her face. “Hello, Anna. Welcome to the party.”
She blinked hard, and a slick-skinned, bloated face came into focus. Nathan Carlisle Senior yanked her to her feet and stuck the cold barrel of her own .45 against her temple.
THE CRUMBLING BRICK of the lake house scraped Charlie’s palms as he hugged the wall and crept toward the voices. He popped his head around the corner, took a split second to memorize the lay of the land and jerked out of sight once again. A sliding glass door on the back patio of the lake house provided both a curse and a blessing. It afforded him the opportunity to observe what was going on inside that back room, but it also afforded those inside that back room the opportunity to observe what was going on outside on the patio, which, quite unfortunately, was lit by a pair of floodlights. And as more rotten luck would have it, a stick was wedged in the door, eliminating his ability to enter that way. In order to launch a rescue, he’d have to travel the perimeter of the house and go in through the front.
He popped his head around the corner again, and this time, he dared press his face against the glass and peer inside the house.
His hands tightened into fists.
Nate and another man had Anna and Simone backed against the far wall. Nate stood with his back to the glass. He had a gun in one hand and Bobby on his hip. At Nate’s side, the other man brandished a Colt. And because the guy had his back to the door, it took Charlie a catch-up minute to recognize him as Nate’s father.
Goddamn it.
Charlie jerked his face off the glass and ducked out of sight.
He’d left Anna in what he’d believed to be the safest place for her—inside the car with a pistol to defend herself if need be. His intentions, to scout the land and the situation and come up with a plan for rescue, were good. But now he cursed his fool-headedness. Not only was Anna not waiting safely in the car, her weapon appeared to have been transferred to Carlisle.
He should’ve known Anna would never hang back and allow him to take all the risks. It was a mistake not to include her in his plans. He should’ve trusted her. But it was way too late now to kick his own ass for being a guy. He’d have to settle for doing right by her once they got out of this mess.
If they got out of this mess.
Carlisle and Nate had two guns and one infant in hand, and he had—well—he had his wits.
He’d strongly prefer a gun, but sometimes you gotta make do.
Ha! A realization pulled his chin up.
He didn’t just have his wits, he also had Anna, and Anna was one helluva partner. His heart slowed down a beat or two, and then he smiled, yeah, actually smiled.
CARLISLE LED ANNA to Simone’s side and waved his gun at them. “Backs against the wall, girls. I’ll get back to you in a minute.”
The only thing worse than being cornered by two assholes with guns, Anna thought, was being cornered by two assholes with guns who wouldn’t stop bickering.
Carlisle turned to his son—for the third time by her count. “You can’t seriously be thinking of taking your whore of a wife home with you?”
Simone straightened her spine and stared proudly at Carlisle. “You knew about Megan and Sally. What kind of a father are you?”
Carlisle stroked his cheek with his weapon. “The kind who looks out for his family’s good name. Lord knows Nate never has, and if I weren’t around to help him clean up his messes, he’d be sitting in a prison cell right this minute, and I wouldn’t have my blessed little Bobby.”