CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Nova watched the pipe connect with the side of Snow’s head, and for one terrible second her brain refused to understand what she had seen.
His hand had been wrapped around hers only a second earlier, pulling her toward the stairs, and then the force of the blow ripped his fingers from hers and sent him crashing sideways into the railing before he collapsed onto the steel deck.
“Gabe!”
She started toward him without thinking, but Brett stepped out of the smoke and planted himself directly between them, the metal pipe still gripped in both hands.
Nova stopped so quickly her shoes slipped against the wet deck, and her eyes went immediately past him to where Snow lay motionless several feet away.
Blood was already trailing from his temple, and the sight of it sent something cold and vicious through her chest.
“You son of a bitch.”
Brett’s laugh sounded almost lost beneath the alarms. Soot streaked his face, his clothes were damp and dirty, and there was a frantic edge in his eyes that made Nova realize whatever control he’d once possessed was gone.
“You really have been one hell of a problem, Ms. Hart,” he said, glancing toward Snow before returning his attention to her. “I underestimated both of you, but especially you. I thought you were just some attorney Silverman sent out here to shuffle papers and make everyone miserable.”
Nova forced herself to look at Brett instead of Snow, even though every instinct she had was screaming at her to get to him. “You know, people keep making that mistake.”
Brett’s mouth twisted. “Doesn’t matter now. Neither one of you is getting off this platform.”
The words landed hard, but they didn’t surprise her. The smoke rolling through the walkway was thicker by the second, and another deep metallic groan echoed somewhere beneath them.
Snow had been right. Brett hadn’t just started a fire to destroy evidence; he intended to make sure there was nothing left to find.
“You really think anyone is going to believe we just happened to die out here?” she asked.
“After that storm? On an unfinished platform where something went catastrophically wrong?” Brett gave a small shrug. “People believe whatever the evidence tells them, and there won’t be much evidence left.”
“You thought wrong. We’ve already sent pictures of your little secret room.”
His face twisted in anger.
Nova’s pulse pounded against her chest as she glanced at Snow again. He still hadn’t moved, but his chest was rising. Barely noticeable from where she stood, but it was enough. He was alive. Now she had to keep him that way.
Snow always carried a weapon. The thought surfaced suddenly, followed by the memory of teasing him about whether Navy SEALs ever went anywhere without one. She couldn’t remember his exact answer, only the amused look he’d given her and the general message that no, not if he could help it.
Her gaze slipped toward his waist. Brett saw it.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Nova looked back at him, trying not to let him see how badly she needed to reach Snow. The problem was Brett knew it too. He stood directly in her path, and every time she shifted even slightly toward Snow, he adjusted with her.
Fine. If he wasn’t going to move voluntarily, she’d move him herself.
She had spent years kickboxing, although it had been a while since she had used any of it for something more serious than a workout.
She had never imagined she would be standing on a burning oil platform preparing to use those skills against a man holding a metal pipe, but apparently her life had officially run out of normal problems.
Brett took a step toward her. “Back away from him.”
Nova obeyed, giving him two slow steps while she watched the pipe and shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet.
“Good girl.”
That did it. Nova moved before she could think herself out of it.
Her first kick landed hard against the outside of Brett’s thigh, catching him completely off guard and forcing him sideways.
Before he could reset his balance, she drove a punch toward his face and felt the impact against his jaw.
Surprise flashed across his features, quickly replaced by fury as he swung the pipe toward her head.
Nova ducked, feeling the rush of air as it passed above her.
“What the fuck?”
“Like I said,” she breathed, backing away before he could grab her, “people underestimate me.”
This time Brett came at her prepared. He faked a move with the pipe, and when Nova moved to avoid it, his free hand caught her across the cheek.
Pain exploded along the side of her face, and she staggered backward, leaving her just off balance enough that she failed to avoid his next swing.
She twisted away, but the sharp edge of the pipe sliced across her upper arm.
Nova cried out. Heat immediately spread beneath her skin, followed by the wet slide of blood down her arm.
For half a second, she stared at it.
Then Brett smiled.
Something about that smile pissed her off more than the pain did.
She drove her foot into his stomach, using every bit of anger and fear she had behind it.
Brett doubled forward, and Nova followed with her knee, catching him hard enough under the chin to snap his head back.
He stumbled, recovered, and swung the pipe again, forcing her farther toward the stairwell.
Her arm throbbed, her cheek felt swollen already, and each breath burned from the smoke that continued building around them. She was tired, hurt, and scared enough that her hands were beginning to shake.
But Snow was still lying behind Brett.
Brett charged her again, apparently deciding brute force was going to finish what the pipe hadn’t. Nova waited until he was almost on top of her before pivoting out of his path and driving her heel hard into the center of his chest.
The kick landed better than she could have hoped.
Brett staggered backward, arms flailing as he tried to catch himself. His hand brushed the stair railing but failed to close around it, and Nova watched his expression change from anger to sudden alarm just before his foot missed the top step.
He went down hard. His body struck the stairs once, then again, the pipe clanging away from him as he tumbled to the landing below.
Nova didn’t wait to see if he stayed there. She ran to Snow and dropped beside him, her hands shaking as she touched his face.
“Gabe, come on. Open your eyes.”
Nothing.
She pressed her fingers to his neck and nearly collapsed with relief when she found a strong pulse. His breathing was steady too, but when she gently touched the blood at the side of his head, he didn’t so much as flinch.
“Oh, God.”
Another violent vibration moved through the platform, reminding Nova that Brett wasn’t the only thing trying to kill them.
They needed to leave, but there was no way she was getting Snow down those stairs by herself while he was unconscious. He outweighed her by far too much.
Then she remembered his gun.
“Sorry,” she whispered as she searched beneath his shirt. “I’m borrowing this.”
Her fingers closed around the pistol, and she pulled it free.
She had fired guns before, enough to know how to handle one without accidentally shooting herself or someone standing beside her, but she was hardly what anyone would call a marksman.
The weapon felt heavier now than it ever had at a range because this time there wasn’t a paper target waiting at the other end.
She found the safety and switched it off.
A metallic scrape came from the stairs, and Nova’s head snapped up.
Brett’s hand appeared around the railing.
Her stomach dropped as he dragged himself back onto the upper level. Blood covered part of his face, one side of his body clearly hurting from the fall, but rage seemed to be carrying him through whatever injuries he’d sustained.
“You fucking bitch.”
Nova rose slowly, keeping herself between him and Snow.
“Stay where you are.”
Brett looked at the gun, then at her, and actually laughed.
“You’re not going to shoot me.”
Nova tightened both hands around the grip. “You really need to stop assuming you know what I’m going to do.”
He took another step, then another.
Nova’s fear sharpened into something strangely clear.
There was no room left for wondering whether she could do this or whether she would regret it later.
Brett had already tried to kill Snow, had locked them inside a burning room, and was now coming straight toward her with murder written all over his face.
When he charged, Nova raised the pistol and fired.
The shot cracked through the steel structure, startlingly loud even over the alarms. Brett jerked as the round struck him, but somehow he stayed on his feet and continued forward.
Nova fired again. Then once more.
The next two rounds hit his chest, and this time his momentum stopped. Brett stared at her for a brief, stunned moment before his knees gave way and he fell backward onto the stairs, disappearing from sight.
Nova stood completely still, the gun still raised as she tried to hear anything beyond the alarms and her own breathing. When Brett didn’t reappear, she moved cautiously toward the stairwell and looked down.
He was lying at the bottom and wasn’t moving. The reality of what she had just done hit her all at once, making her stomach roll.
She had shot someone.
Nova lowered the gun, forcing herself to breathe through the shock before it could swallow her whole. There would be time later to think about it, to fall apart if she needed to when she wasn’t standing on a burning platform with an unconscious Navy SEAL at her feet.
She hurried back to him and knelt beside his shoulder, placing the gun within reach while she gently patted his cheek.
“Come on, Gabe. I really need you to wake up now.”
His eyes remained closed.
Nova leaned closer, her voice breaking despite how hard she tried to keep it steady. “You got me through that air duct, remember? So now you need to help me out a little because I am absolutely not strong enough to carry your giant ass down those stairs.”