Chapter 18 #2
Instead of taking a seat or moving toward the side of the chapel where the receiving line had begun to dwindle, she went down the middle. With her, an older man kept pace. Something about him looked familiar, but he didn’t know from where.
Duncan stayed put, but kept his eyes on the two and Enders going after them, his long strides eating up the space until he caught up with them. Then his pulse kicked up. Solace was on the move too.
Whatever was about to happen, he didn’t want her getting caught up in it.
“Stop,” Enders hissed, as Duncan took a few steps away from his corner location. Solace was heading straight to where Enders was herding the two between a set of pews opposite him, and he didn’t like it. “This way.”
“You don’t have to push,” the young woman said as they got to the far side of the chapel.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?” Enders grumbled while opening the door, with Solace almost on top of them.
“You insisted for this to be in person,” the young woman said, her tone snide. “What else did you expect?”
“Not for you to mess with the family.”
“Haven Sheppard messed with my family.” The man’s angry voice carried to where Duncan readied himself to make his move. “She deserves this.”
Behind Solace, Chance was about to be on top of her.
“And she’s not lost enough.” The man’s yell echoed throughout the chapel before he rushed away from Enders and?—
“Gun,” Solace yelled, going after the man, while Enders’ “Dammit,” growled in his ear, while the panicked screams of the attendees accompanied them running out of the chapel. “Let go of my legs.”
“Everybody out,” Duncan hollered as he drew his gun and bounded over several pews. He had to get to his family. So, he ran the remaining length of one, uncaring that his hat flew off his head, to make it to the center aisle.
“You killed my son,” the man screamed, waving his gun toward where his family cowered—except Haven, of course—with Cal, Stanton, and Alyn shielding them, while Wallace, Carter, and Jennings had taken positions in front of Mercy, Hope, Destiny, and the Pruitts.
No one had a gun drawn.
They’d probably figured they wouldn’t need to have one on them. It was a funeral, after all.
“You,” the man said, his shaking gun hand pointing at Cal. “She’s going to lose you too.” Then he turned and looked upward, an eerie smile spreading over his face. “See, son, I told you the bitch would pay before your birthday.”
Birthday? His son?
Was that the reason for the three-month deadline? His death was some kind of sick gift?
“You might shoot one of us,” Cal said, his voice booming, “but we’re still taking you down.”
He couldn’t let Cal get shot. He also couldn’t allow anyone on his team to try to rush him. None of them should be hurt because of this. The only thing to do was give him a new target.
“Hey, you son of a bitch,” he called out, then spread his arms wide. “Guess what? I’m still alive.”
“Dad?”
He ignored Haven’s surprised cry. But the man didn’t, as he whirled around, his gun hand falling, saying, “Dad… What?”
The man’s hand trembled as he once more raised his gun and swung it around wildly until it finally landed on him. He frowned, then widened his crazed eyes.
“It’s you…” His features blanched. “Why aren’t you dead?”
“I guess your people hired the wrong hitman.” He moved closer but angled himself away from anyone who might be in the line of fire.
“Right,” Enders grumbled in his ear. It looked like he’d managed to get rid of the girl clinging to him. But where was she? Since the man was free to move into a strategic position, his own gun raised and pointed straight at the madman, she had to have been neutralized in some way.
And what about Solace and Chance? They wouldn’t be armed either. Had they taken cover? The hope the two were hidden was quickly dashed when he caught a slight movement and flash of dark-blond hair to his left in his peripheral vision.
“Don’t move,” the man holding them all hostage yelled, swinging his gun toward where he knew Solace had moved.
Duncan’s pulse pounded wildly, while his heart felt like it was about to burst, as he hazarded a glance at a determined Solace.
On her other side, a steely-eyed Chance stood.
Both were poised to rush him. He couldn’t let that happen either.
“You don’t want her,” Duncan growled out, forcing his gaze to remain steady on the man, while taking a step toward him. The man immediately aimed his gun back on him.
“Dad,” Haven screamed, and he flicked his gaze toward his daughter and Cal grabbing her around the waist as she tried to run past him. “Don’t.”
“Get her back,” he yelled, focusing once more on the man. “Keep everyone safe.”
“This isn’t going to end well,” Enders said. “I can take him out right now if?—”
Duncan shook his head without looking at the big man. He needed to diffuse this situation. Hopefully, without anyone getting shot.
“No one has died yet,” Duncan said in a tone meant to calm, while pointing his weapon off to the side. “So, why don’t you put the gun down before someone does.”
“No one has died?” The man’s dark, humorless laugh, filled the chapel. “What about my son? Huh?” He waved his gun, taking in everyone standing, aiming particularly in Haven’s general direction. “Brayden is dead because of that bitch leading him on. She ruined his life.”
Brayden Collins…
Duncan clenched his jaw to keep from saying anything that might set Brayden’s father off any further. Although any hope of that was dwindling by the second. But now that he realized who his son had been, the resemblance was unmistakable. That’s why he’d looked so familiar.
“Your son is dead,” Duncan said, using every bit of his Marine and covert training to stay calm. “Because he made bad choices.”