In her rage and terror, it seemed to her that he moved in slow motion. And that she did, too. An eternity seemed to pass as he took aim and she reached into the pocket of her maxi dress. Uncapped the syringe. Jabbed it into Woodson’s thigh.
The world froze for an eternity.
Woodson shouted.
The gun fired.
She stumbled as he did, his arm still squeezing her throat.
And then she was falling, falling backward with him, as the gun fired again.
NICK WATCHED AS the women made their way up the aisle. When Kat got closer, she grinned and made a face at him, but then her gaze shifted to his left. To Beckett. And hell if the look his sister was giving his friend wasn’t how Becca sometimes looked at Nick. For as much as Nick had been thrown by Beckett’s interest in Kat, the two of them had proven to be damn good for each other.
As Kat took her place, Nick searched for Becca. And found the doors to the first floor closed again. He frowned. Maybe it was to allow the bride to make a grand entrance once the wedding march began? Nick stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders. Probably made him an asshole, but he really wanted this rehearsal to be over.
He stared at the doors. The same music continued on. A prickle ran over his scalp. He looked to his teammates, standing at his left. But his gut had already decided. “I don’t like this.” No, more than that. “Something’s fucking wrong.”
The men took off as a unit. “Kat, get everyone in the limo and keep them there,” Nick heard Beckett say. “Go.”
Becca. Jesus Christ, Becca. Where are you?
Nick full out sprinted down the courtyard. Two security guards spilled out from the gatehouse and filled in behind them.
“Go around to the side and take the shot through a window if you have it,” Nick called. Easy and Marz broke off. Guns in hand, the remaining three slowed as they approached the doors. Curtains covered the glass, keeping Nick from seeing inside. In a quiet jog, they hugged the building as they got closer, then Nick used hand signals to communicate the plan. Him on one side, Beckett and Marz on the other. Beckett would force entry, Marz would provide sweeping cover and fire, and Nick would take out the target—assuming he had a shot. There were three friendlies inside.
It was the only way he could think of Becca as his brain shifted to ice-cold operational mode.
Gunfire. One shot. Then another.
And it didn’t fucking sound like it had come from the exterior of the building. It had come from inside.
No! Not Becca! Not my sunshine!
With a violent kick, Beckett exploded open the doors. A scream from inside.
Nick swept in to witness something he would never forget for the rest of his life. Becca on the floor on top of Woodson. She wrestled a gun away from him, then rose on stumbling, unsure feet, the gun trained right at the man’s head.
Nick didn’t know whether to be terrified, proud, or completely fucking dumbfounded.
Gun trained on Woodson, Nick slowly came around so he had a clear view of the man and of Becca’s face.
“Becca, are you okay?” Nick asked, his heart a goddamned freight train in his chest. Seriously. The adrenaline coursing through him was strong enough to knock him off his feet, and as strong as the relief he felt at seeing Becca on hers. But she didn’t seem to hear him. “Becca.”
“I should kill you,” she said, the tone of her voice something he’d never heard before. “I should.” Despite the shudders racking her body, she gripped the weapon stably, competently. Her finger sat on the trigger.
Nick glanced to Woodson to find him unconscious, then all his focus narrowed in on her, even as his teammates moved around the room. Still vigilant, Nick moved closer. “Becca, it’s me. It’s over.”
She shook her head. “I should,” she said again, her face crumpling.
God, his heart was fucking breaking. “No, you shouldn’t. No matter how much he deserves it, you don’t want a death on your hands. Any death. You don’t want that. And I don’t want that for you.”
Beckett moved around behind Becca, poised to disarm her if he needed to, but Nick gave a single shake of his head.
Nick crouched to force himself closer to her line of sight. “Becca. Sunshine. Look at me.”
Shattered blue eyes cut to him, but her gun remained trained on the unconscious man who’d wreaked such havoc on their lives. “Is . . . is Charlie . . .”
“I’m okay,” Charlie said, sitting up against the wall by the door. “I’m okay, Becca.”
Nick spared a quick glance to her brother. Okay, but hit in the shoulder. Shane was taping gauze to the wound from a kit open on the floor beside him. Jeremy was crouched on Charlie’s other side, his head against the guy’s good shoulder.
“He’s okay?” she asked, like she wasn’t quite processing the information.
“Yeah. Charlie’s okay. It’s all over.” Slowly, Nick reached out toward her, his hand gesturing for the gun. “You did so good, Becca. You took Woodson out. You saved Charlie. Let me take it from here.” The how of it all, Nick didn’t yet know, but there was no doubting that Becca had saved this fucking day.
Nick’s hand fell on the barrel of the gun. Exerted pressure. Forced it down and away.
Finally, she let it go.
It was like the gun had been holding her up.
Her legs went out beneath her. Beckett was right there and caught her as she sagged to the floor.
Nick was to her in an instant. He handed the gun off to Beckett and took Becca into his arms.
“Charlie,” she rasped.
“He’s right here,” Nick said.
She turned within his embrace, a tortured gasp spilling out of her when she saw her brother. Blood had soaked a crimson circle through the gauze.
“It’s just a scratch,” Charlie said. “I’m fine.”
Movement in the doorway. Chen and his team. “I got here as fast as I could,” Chen said. “Are you all okay?”
Hell if Nick knew. “Can you stand?” he asked Becca. He wanted to get her out of there, away from Woodson.
“Yeah,” she said as he helped her up. She needed the help. Adrenaline had her shaking like she was freezing, and her teeth were chattering.
Nick shrugged out of his suit coat and wrapped it around her.
“What’s that?” Chen asked, pointing at the floor by Woodson’s leg.
A syringe.
“Diazepam,” Becca said in a weak voice.
“Smart,” Chen said in that deadpan way he had.
Not smart. Fucking brilliant. When had she done that?
As they watched, one of Chen’s men cuffed Woodson’s hands.
“Can we go home?” Becca asked, her voice taking on a flat, odd quality. “I just want to go home.”
His arm around her, Nick pulled her in against his chest and stroked her hair. He looked to Shane and Charlie.
“He needs stitches, but not surgery. Went clean through the meat above his collarbone,” Shane said.
“Can you fix it up at home?” Charlie asked Shane.
Shane pressed his lips into a tight line. “The job will be neater and less painful if we take you to the hospital.”
Shaking his head, Charlie looked from Shane to Nick. “I don’t care about that. I want to take Becca home.”