Chapter 68
Chapter
Sixty-Eight
Jacob kept the gun trained on them as he backed toward the living room. “Move.”
Nash didn’t argue. Not yet.
Prine knew the address. So did Luke.
Backup was coming.
His job was to keep Wren and Mason alive in the meantime.
Nash raised his hands slightly and started forward. “Easy.”
Jacob’s gaze stayed fixed on him. “Into the living room. All of you.”
Wren moved behind Nash with Mason tucked against her side.
They were too close to Jacob. Everybody was too close.
One twitch of Jacob’s finger—
Nash shut the thought down. But there was clearly more to the story here. Maybe even more than one kidnapper involved. All of Jacob’s answers were cryptic.
He slowly walked toward the living room, listening for sirens through the walls.
Nothing yet.
They passed the stairs.
Jacob stayed several feet behind them, smart enough not to get within easy reach.
But not smart enough.
Nash’s gaze swept the room.
Front door. Windows. Furniture.
An old cabinet stood against the wall beside him, tall and narrow, its shelves crowded with dishes the previous owners hadn’t bothered taking.
Nash filed that away.
“Keep moving,” Jacob ordered.
Nash took another step.
He needed Wren and Mason to be clear before he made a move.
“You’re making this worse, Jacob.” Nash kept his voice steady. “You know that.”
“Shut up.”
Good. He was rattled.
Nash moved alongside the cabinet. One more step.
Jacob followed. He was closer now.
Nash glanced at Wren.
Her eyes met his.
His gaze flicked to the cabinet and then back to her.
He didn’t know if she understood what he was about to do.
He hoped she understood one thing.
Run.
Just as he passed the cabinet, Nash hooked his hand around the side and yanked.
Jacob’s eyes widened.
The cabinet groaned and then tipped. China slid from the shelves. Then the whole thing crashed between them with an explosion of splintering wood and breaking dishes.
Wren tugged Mason out of the way.
Jacob threw himself backward to avoid the collision.
That was all Nash needed. He lunged toward Jacob.
Nash’s hand closed around Jacob’s gun wrist before Jacob could recover.
The weapon jerked to the side.
Jacob slammed into him hard, driving Nash backward into the wall.
Pain shot through his injured knee. Nash ignored it.
“Run!” he shouted.
Wren grabbed Mason and bolted toward the broken front door, shattered dishes crunching under their shoes.
Jacob twisted violently, trying to wrench the gun free.
Nash drove his shoulder into Jacob’s chest.
They hit the floor, the gun trapped between them.
There was so much more to this story. They needed Jacob alive.
Jacob grunted, shards from the dishes probably cutting into his back. Then he brought his free fist into Nash’s face.
Pain burst across his cheek.
Nash tightened his grip. “Let go.”
Jacob laughed once, breathless and wild. “You first.”
He bucked hard.
Nash’s knee screamed as he shifted his weight.
For one second, his grip slipped. Jacob took advantage.
He rolled, dragging Nash with him. The barrel swung toward the doorway.
Toward Wren.
Toward Mason.
No!
Nash slammed both hands around Jacob’s wrist and forced the gun upward.
Jacob drove an elbow into his ribs. Air left Nash’s lungs. Still, he held on.
Wren and Mason had made it outside. They were safe. That was all that mattered.
Jacob twisted again.
The gun moved between them, and he felt Jacob’s finger tightening.
Nash shoved him with everything he had.
Then the gun fired. The sound tore through the room.
Everything went still.
Nash froze. Had he been hit?
The sound of gunfire cracked through the house.
Wren turned back toward the structure.
Mason jerked against her and buried his face in her side.
For one terrible second, she couldn’t move.
Nash . . .
Her mind went blank except for his name.
She stared at the broken front door.
Nothing moved inside. There were no voices. No footsteps.
Nothing.
“Mama?” Mason’s voice brought her back.
She dropped to her knees and grabbed his shoulders. “Are you okay?”
He nodded quickly, eyes huge.
Wren looked toward the house again. She couldn’t leave Mason. But she couldn’t stand here not knowing if Nash was bleeding on that floor either.
Her heart pounded so hard it hurt.
Think.
She scanned the yard and spotted Nash’s truck.
Then she heard the sirens in the distance. Backup was almost here.
Wren took Mason’s hand. “Come with me.”
She hurried with him toward Nash’s truck, and they climbed inside. The two of them huddled together, and she stared at the house.
Nash . . . was he okay? She hated to be here when he could use her help. But she couldn’t leave Mason.
God, please! Please!
She had no other words.
She pulled Mason tighter, so grateful that they’d found him.
A moment later, someone lumbered onto the porch.
Wren held her breath.
Nash.
Relief hit her so hard she pressed a hand against the dash. He braced one arm on the porch post, and even from here she could tell he was favoring the injured knee.
But he was upright. He was moving.
Every part of her wanted to be out of this truck. But Mason’s fingers were still knotted in her sleeve.
So she stayed where she was.
Nash turned toward the truck and found her through the windshield. Then he raised one hand, palm out, and held it there.
Stay.
She waved back so he’d know she’d understood.
Then he turned and went back through the broken door.
The doorway swallowed him. From here it was nothing but a dark rectangle in a gray house, and whatever was happening on the other side of it, she couldn’t see one thing.
“Is he getting the bad man?” Mason whispered.
“I don’t know, Bug.”
She didn’t. That was the whole of it. Somebody had fired a gun in that house, and Nash had walked out of it and gone straight back in.
There were only two reasons a man did that. Either Jacob was still a threat. Or he was bleeding.
Wren pulled Mason against her and watched that empty doorway and tried not to think in worst-case scenarios.
Jacob had the answers. All of them.
He knew about Christian. How Roy had been part of it. He knew why Mason had been taken. Who else was out there.
She wanted to know what he’d meant by a “greater purpose.”
She hated that she was thinking about it. She thought about it anyway.
A moment later, tires tore over gravel behind her. A vehicle came up the drive fast, another one on its bumper.
Doors slammed.
Somebody was already shouting for a medic.
Two paramedics went past the truck at a run with a bag between them.
They went through that door and didn’t come back out.