Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)

Interesting.

“Guns.” Her voice is low and soft but commanding. If she wasn’t threatening my life with a pistol pointed at me right now, I might find that shit sexy.

It’s not the smartest idea giving up the Smith and Wesson right now, but hell, what am I gonna do? Fake it like I’m not bearing arms? Green knows better than that. She also knows where I keep it.

Once mine is on the ground, I look to make sure Nick is complying. Movement out in the shadows tells me there’s plenty of backup for Green and Walker. But who the hell are they?

I know for sure Black is one of them, but is Dad out there, too? And if he is. Whose side is he actually working for? Nick’s? Or Walker’s?

No one knows what the hell to say for a minute or two. I’m busy trying to see past the darkness to determine whether or not there’s a building of some sort on this property.

I’m sure there is. I just need to find it.

That’s where Stix’ll be.

I need a diversion.

Whatever happens at this point, I know Nick will catch up fast. I just need to…

Gotcha.

“So, well-played, I guess.” I give Green a look of sarcastic irony. Her eyes give me no hint whatsoever as to what she’s thinking.

“She does good work, yes?”

I point over toward the voice. “Fuck you. I’m talking to the lady. Or shall I say─”

“No, you shall not.” Green shoots me a death stare.

Her trigger finger twitches. I might think she was anxious to shoot me except for the fact that she’s fucking with her hair again. So I know she’s lying. The combo tell proves it beyond a shadow of a doubt. But is she lying to me, or is she lying to them?

“Spare us the drama, Mr. Stiles.” Walker practically rolls his eyes. “Those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.”

“Those who-”

“What?” Nick’s finishes my question and looks over at me like he’s thinking the same thing I’m fucking thinking.

“You seriously quoting the Bible when you’re about to commit murder, Walker?”

Lame.

Green shifts, and I catch what looks like her scoping out her odds before she goes bitch face again. No one notices but me, and quite frankly, I’m stumped.

“Don’t hate her, Mr. Stiles,” Anonymous, a.k.a. Black, probably, tells me from the darkness. “She’s simply good at her job. Aren’t you, Emma?”

Hearing him call her by her first name kinda pisses me the fuck off. Where the hell does this shitbag get off calling her Emma?

She must not like it either because she doesn’t answer him. One last look between us and I’m done giving myself away, both literally and figuratively, thank you very much.

A car alarm goes off somewhere. It’s loud enough to distract Walker’s attention and whomever else is out there. Without thinking, I roll and grab my gun back from the dirt. Then I make a fucking run for it.

I don’t look back to see if Nick is following behind. I’m sure he is. All I can concentrate on right now is Stix.

“Goddammit!” I hear frustration hitting someone, then another curse. “Which way were they headed?”

“No idea.” Green’s voice is like a knife to my chest, but I can’t dwell on that.

There’s a commotion of some sort, then more yelling, but I’m too far away to hear what’s being said. It’s dark enough out here that he might shoot at me, but the chances of him hitting me are one in about twenty-five. Give or take.

I know how to run without making a lot of noise. If they can’t hear me, they don’t know where to point their guns.

My feet carry me faster than I would have thought possible at this point. Not that I’m fucking complaining, but I know, in the back of my mind, I’m gonna be hating life later on.

Or at the very least, my shins will be.

I hear shots. A couple hit tree trunks that are a little too fucking close for comfort. So I start zigzagging for a good quarter mile.

I’m guesstimating here.

I know there’s gotta be a building coming up soon. If there isn't, I may never find Stix.

Finally, I see a structure up ahead, and I push myself to go faster than I already am until I’m in the protection of its shadows.

I let myself catch some breath while I listen for what’s happening. Damn, my fucking legs hurt.

Note to self: no more Crouching Tiger, Hidden Stiles bullshit after this.

The shots are further off in the distance now. I don’t think anyone’s actually fucking followed me yet. So they must think I’m still close to the fence.

Hopefully, Nick isn’t back there.

When I’m at what I assume is the entrance, I realize it’s a barn, or something like it. I steal along the side until I find the damn door that’s gonna let me in.

It slides open fairly easily, and I’m surprised to find there’s no one guarding this place.

Don’t be dead, kid.

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