Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Damian flew in behind him and kicked the gun out of reach.
Steve screamed. Christian moved off the asshole.
“You good?” Damian asked, yanking Steve onto his feet. Something popped in Steve’s arm. The guy cried out, his face going stark white.
Christian didn’t answer. He was already edging toward Amka. “Hey,” he said, voice hoarse, controlled only by force of will. “Amka. You with me?”
She blinked slowly, lips parted. Blood had run from the corner of her mouth, down her chin. Her right hand trembled slightly where it gripped the floor. But her eyes were clear. Alert. “I’m okay,” she whispered.
“Bullshit,” he breathed, brushing her hair back from her face. “You’re bleeding.”
“So are you,” she said, her voice rough.
He realized then that he was. His knuckles were split open from hitting Steve. Didn’t matter. He helped her sit up carefully, one arm bracing her back. She winced but stayed conscious.
Behind them, Lorrie started sobbing. Damian barked something Christian didn’t catch, and the woman stopped.
Amka shuddered. “Steve and Lorrie are lovers. They planned to kill her husband. Steve shot at Eli that night outside the tavern, and then Steve killed the poor guy in the forest and cut out his eyes to look like the other victims. But Steve didn’t set the explosives or cut my brake lines.”
What the hell? Christian grasped her arms, his brain trying to make sense of the situation. The sniper was Steve? And the asshole had been aiming for those tourists inside the tavern? Christian should’ve looked at all angles of this. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” Amka sniffed. “He told me to go to the window, so I had to try for the gun. I couldn’t let him get me outside.”
“You were smart. And brave.” Christian pressed a kiss to her temple, though all he wanted to do was break Steve’s neck.
Damian shoved Steve against the wall as May came into view, her eyes wide. “I texted Brock. He’ll come down and arrest these assholes.”
Christian helped Amka out of the room. “You scared me,” he said.
“I scared myself,” she murmured. “But I wasn’t going out that window.”
He didn’t smile. Not yet. Not until she was checked out again. Not until he saw her in clean clothes and could hold her without shaking. “May? Would you take a look at her, please?”
“Of course.” May moved on ahead. “Come down to the examination room. Um, again.”
As they left the room, Christian glanced at Steve, who had crumpled against the wall. He was lucky he still breathed. Christian didn’t say a word—just stared him in the eye with a promise of death if Christian ever got the chance.
Steve looked away first.
Chapter 36
The tavern still smelled like burnt wood and bleach.
Amka sat at the far table near the back window, a warm bowl of chicken soup from the Green Plate in front of her, but her appetite hadn’t caught up yet. Daisy had brought the soup in a thermos from the café and now busied herself with cleaning soot off the bar. They’d closed for the week, but Amka wasn’t up to figuring out how badly the kitchen was damaged right now.
Lucas had come by to survey the place, muttering the entire time that he’d moved to Alaska to get away from fire and would never miss a town meeting again. That somebody else could take over as tanker chief. His jaw tight, he’d told Amka he’d be back soon for an in-depth investigation.
Poor guy. All he wanted to do was write his darn book.
Christian sat to Amka’s right, one arm resting along the back of her chair like he’d planted himself there permanently. Damian sat across from them, shoulders stiff, eyes constantly scanning the room like a threat might come through the door at any second.
Nobody spoke for a while. The soup cooled.
Christian looked at Damian. “Time for you to catch us up. We knew you were briefly married to a woman named Stella for a job in Intelligence, and that you got divorced, but you’d never talk about it.”
Amka studied the brothers. No doubt Christian had never forced his brother to talk. That wasn’t his style.
Damian ran a rough hand through his thick black hair. “Yeah, Stella and I married for a job. It was a shitshow and I can’t tell you much about it. But we never got divorced. I’ve been looking for her for years, and now that I’m out, I planned to find her. I had no clue she was in town.”
This was too weird.
“You married a purple haired pixie-like twenty year old?” Christian shook his head.
Damian barked out a laugh. “She’s a master at disguises. Stella is thirty and her natural hair color is platinum blonde. Think Russian starlet.” He tugged out his phone to text. “I’m asking Dutch to put out a BOLO on her, but they’ll never find her. She’s that good.”