Chapter 32
32
We’ve got company.
Carter’s text might have sounded cryptic, but Hardy knew him well enough to understand every underlying meaning. The other gang members had arrived.
Who’s there?
It’s Kane and Company. Dan too.
On my way.
Call Johnson.
Already done.
Timothy, who was still tied up beside him, was staring at Hardy’s phone screen. Obviously, he’d been able to read the texts. To his surprise, the guy wasn’t reacting much at all. His body had tensed, but he remained silent.
Was he waiting for Hardy to tell him what was happening? Or fill him in about what they were going to do next?
Or was it something different entirely?
Maybe Timothy Jones had given up.
Though he could understand why the kid was probably thinking that he had nothing left to live for, Hardy hoped that wasn’t the case.
Again and again, he’d been reminded that he couldn’t take care of everything by himself. He knew that he and Carter were going to need Timothy’s help for Stephanie and Bev to remain unharmed.
“Did you read my texts?” he asked.
Timothy shrugged.
“If you didn’t, it looks like your friends broke into the main house. Carter needs help.”
“It’s gonna go bad.”
That was the last thing Hardy needed to hear. He jerked Timothy’s elbow, pulling him up to his feet. “Don’t say that. Just come on. We’ve gotta go.”
After a momentary hesitation, the kid stepped forward. Waiting for instructions.
Hardy was surprised. He’d half expected Timothy to let out a string of curses. Maybe even fight him a bit.
Hardy wouldn’t have blamed Timothy if he did. The kid was desperate, and the gang members were on a mission to avenge the imagined wrongs against them. He was starting to believe that they thought Timothy was the root of all their troubles.
“You still armed?” Timothy asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
He didn’t put up a fight when Hardy loaded him in the truck and remained silent as Hardy sped down the road to the main house.
He was glad of that. Hardy’s head felt like it was going a million miles an hour, making plans about how to keep the women safe, support Carter, and not get either himself or Carter killed while doing so.
He came to the conclusion that the only way to have any semblance of a chance was to free Timothy’s hands. If he was telling the truth, his former friends would use Timothy any way they could in order to silence Stephanie. The kid needed a fighting chance.
And if for some reason Timothy had been telling Hardy a heap of lies and it was all a convoluted plot to get the best of him and Carter, then he would have to deal with that when the time came. He and Carter had dealt with more than one untrustworthy person when they’d been deployed overseas.
Pulling into the drive, he cut the motor, then pulled a knife from out of his boot. “Turn sideways,” he said.
Timothy tensed but once again did as he was bid. The moment his wrists were free, he slowly moved his arms, no doubt attempting to ease the cramped muscles.
Hardy paused for a second, half expecting the kid to turn on him in anger. Instead, he faced front again.
“What did you do that for?” he asked in a low tone.
“You need a fighting chance.”
“You serious?”
“Obviously. Timothy, I want the men who came after you caught. When the sheriff arrives, I want him or one of the deputies to take you into custody. You need to pay for your crimes. But I don’t want you to be killed while tied up. I don’t want that on my shoulders.”
“You really think that matters?”
“To me, it does.” Not wanting to waste another second, he opened the driver’s side door. “Come on.”
He heard Timothy exit his side of the vehicle and his footsteps follow him through an open carport, and finally to a set of stairs that led to a mudroom of sorts.
The hair on the back of Hardy’s neck tickled, whether it was because he was half waiting for Timothy to attack him or because he was scared about what he’d find. He wasn’t sure.
Then, he remembered all the times in his past when trusting others had been the right thing to do. Trusting the other men and women in his unit. Trusting the soldiers they’d flown overseas to protect.
Even trusting his officers enough to follow their directives without hesitating.
Finally, he remembered that moment on the bus. When he’d been seven and scared and alone ... and Edward had stepped out of nowhere to help him. For no reason other than that it was the right thing to do.
Just like the Lord had done for him on many an occasion.
And a sense of calm filled him. Eased his muscles. Gave him hope.
He opened the door to Carter’s house and walked inside. And felt his life come full circle when Timothy followed.
The mudroom was dark, but the hallway and rooms beyond were bright. He pulled out his gun. The comforting weight of the piece settled in, and muscle memory took over.
“We were wondering when you were going to show up,” a man said as he stepped out of the shadows. “Timothy, look at you. Hiding behind more coattails?”
Hardy pulled back the safety. “I don’t know who you boys are, but you’re trespassing on private property.”
The guy raised his hands. “Don’t worry. We’re not here to rob you. We only came for our friend, here.”
“Where’s Audrey?” Timothy said as he walked forward.
“Last I checked, she’s still all right. One of the guys is watching her. And waiting.” The man winked. “They’re waiting to see what happens here.”
“You need to set her free, Kane.”
“We can’t do that until you come with us—and we take care of the Amish girl.”
“I don’t know where she is.”
“That’s okay. She’s right here with Dancer.”
Hardy sucked in a breath as Dancer entered the room. The gang member had his arm around Stephanie’s throat. In his hand was a blade. There was already a trickle of blood dripping down.
Rage filled him. The guy had been playing with them. “No,” he bit out.
“Put the knife down!” Carter said as he appeared from a dark hallway. Everyone turned.
Hardy couldn’t believe his eyes. “Where is Dan?” Dan should’ve seen the men on the security cameras.
“He’s injured, I’m afraid,” Carter said in a cold voice. Turning to Kane, he added, “When I realized that he not only turned off the electric fence but had been the one to tell Timothy about Stephanie, I told him that I was going to make sure he rotted in prison a long time. When he ignored my warning, I shot his kneecap. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” His gaze hardened as he focused on Dancer. “You’d best put the knife down before I do worse to you.”
Hardy could barely hold himself together when Stephanie looked his way. Tears were in her eyes. Silently, he attempted to reassure her.
Then, as if she was in slow motion, she glanced at Timothy.
After meeting her gaze, Timothy charged forward and jumped Dancer. The knife clattered to the ground as Dancer fell. A gun went off.
Seconds later, Hardy subdued Kane, Stephanie was free, and Timothy Jones lay on the ground, dead.
After several minutes had passed, the door burst open and Sheriff Johnson entered the foyer. He took in the gang members tied up, Timothy’s dead body, and Stephanie’s bleeding neck. His expression hardened. “Sitrep.”
Hardy shared a look with Carter before walking to Stephanie’s side. Since she looked like she was about to collapse, he gently pulled her into his embrace and held her tight.
“Hardy.” She grabbed hold of his shirt with her fists, as if she was afraid he’d step away. There wasn’t a chance of that.
Pressing kisses to her face, he gently rubbed her back while holding her securely with his other arm. “I’ve got you, Stephanie,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
He didn’t know if he was ever going to be able to let her go.