Footsteps crunched on the gravel as a guard walked around the van.
Oh no. Regan wiggled closer to the back, just in case the man looked inside and saw Aric.
He kept walking.
Her knife hand was shaking. She was shaking. Friggers, she wanted to run home.
Why was she here?
For Hawk. Right. And for Frankie.
And even for Aric.
She tightened her grip on the knife and silently repeated what Uncle Bull said anytime she whined about something being too hard. “Pain is acceptable. Quitting is not. Blood is acceptable. Quitting is not. Falling is acceptable. Quitting is not.”
Her lips pressed together. I won’t quit.
Nabera started yelling nasty words. Then Bull shouted something.
Hurry, Aric.
How they’d get Frankie and Uncle Hawk out of here…she didn’t know that.
Maybe she was a stupidhead, cuz she’d believed Aric when he said Hawk would fix it.
She really, really hoped the kid was right.
What the fuck was going on out there? Hawk turned his head, wincing as the movement sent his headache into high gear. He could sure hear Kit’s voice way too clearly. Although she was shouting, he could hear her fear.
Why in hell was she outside instead of safe in the Hermitage? His jaw tightened as Nabera bellowed in anger.
He pulled at the ropes around his wrists. No give. He’d never felt so fucking helpless.
Feeling a slight dip of the van, Hawk eyed the open door. No one blocked the light from outside. Frankie hadn’t moved.
There was a whisper of sound, a slight movement of the air. Something small had crawled into the cargo area. A cat, maybe? There were too many shadows to see clearly.
A cold little hand touched his cheek, and he heard the tiniest of whispers in his ear. “Hawk.”
Son of a fucking bitch.
Terror shot shards of ice right into his heart. Aric. God, no. He’d rather die than have the boy hurt.
Before he could figure out what to do, Aric crawled behind him and started sawing at the ropes around Hawk’s wrists.
Damned if the kid didn’t have a knife.
This might take a while. The fucking PZs had used lots of rope in tying him up—and the child had only a four-year-old’s strength.
But he was so silent that even Frankie hadn’t realized he was in here.
There was no light for Aric to see, and Hawk gritted his teeth as the sharp blade cut him several times in the process. But the strands were loosening, falling away, one by one.
With all his strength, he yanked at the ropes. The last ones broke, and he was free—even as the knife sliced down his wrist.
Aric squeaked in dismay.
Frankie gasped.
“Shhh.” Hawk took the knife and cut the ropes binding his ankles. Good blade. Actually, it felt damn familiar in his hand.
Outside, gravel crunched.
Fuck. The guards must have heard Aric’s squeak and were heading around the van toward the back.
Hawk pulled the boy against his side and breathed, “Stay down.”
Regan had heard a sound like a mouse from inside the van. Friggers, Aric.
The guards had heard too. Under the van, she saw feet moving toward the back of the van. Tucked behind the rear wheel, she waited.
Closer, closer.
She picked her spot—the place above the man’s boot. Braced on one hand, she stabbed her knife really, really hard into his leg.
“Shit!” His leg jerked away, pulling the knife right out of her hand.
Oh no. She scrabbled backward as fast as she could.
There was a thump, like he hit the van, and then he dropped to his knees. She tensed, knowing he’d look under the van. Would shoot her.
Only…he fell over sideways and just lay there, not moving or anything.
She wiggled even farther back under the vehicle.
Stabbing a leg couldn’t kill someone…could it?
Why was Kit yelling at Nabera? What was her bestie thinking?
Get away from him, Kit. Frankie couldn’t stop trembling, terrified for herself, for Hawk, and now for Kit.
A few seconds ago, Hawk whispered, Shhh, only she hadn’t made any noise. Then something thumped against the side of the van.
She felt movement behind her. Hawk? Had he gotten free?
“Shhh,” he whispered again, only a breath of a sound.
The ropes around her wrists pulled tighter, then fell off completely. As blood surged back into her hands, she smothered a moan. Cazzo, that hurt.
He closed her half-numb fingers around a knife handle and whispered, “Cut your legs loose.”
Hearing a guard’s footsteps approaching, she sawed frantically on the ropes binding her ankles.
The PZ appeared in the van’s doorway.
Half-standing, Hawk grabbed the man’s shoulders and yanked. The PZ’s head hit the top of the doorway with a gut-wrenching crunch, and he dropped bonelessly to the ground.
Frankie’s ankles were free. As her circulation returned, her feet returned to life in waves of searing pain. Ow, ow, ow.
Jumping out of the van, Hawk bent to pick up the PZ’s rifle.
As Frankie followed him out, she felt something behind her and spun.
And then her arms were full of a little boy.
Madonna, it was Aric, trembling like a leaf.
She hugged him hard even as fear for him tore holes in her heart.
Silently, Hawk crept around the van to where the other guard should be. The one who’d thumped on the van.
A body lay on the ground, unmoving…with a matte black knife in his back.
Caz was here.
Hawk glanced around, seeing an area of taller brush. Probably there.
With a grim smile, Hawk turned his head and winced as his headache increased. Farther down the road, two guards stood between the van and the Hermitage.
Near Gabe’s house, Nabera was still shouting at Bull and Kit.
Dammit, Kit. His gut clenched.
First things first. Those two guards were far enough away that Aric and Frankie should be able to reach Caz without being seen.
His eyes narrowed. Just how the hell had Aric gotten out of the Hermitage anyway? Caz sure wouldn’t have brought him.
Someone else might, though.
Frowning, Hawk spotted a jack-knife sticking out of the dead guard’s leg. Someone else, indeed.
Bending, Hawk spoke softly. “C’mon out, Regan.”
After a second, she appeared, taking his hand to stand up. Flinging her arms around him, she buried her face against his side.
Yeah, Caz had an incredibly lovable, incredibly brave kid.
Holding the AR-15 off to one side, Hawk bent and whispered in her hair. “You did great, Regan. But time to leave. Take Aric and Frankie to your dad. I got this now. Yeah?”
Her head moved up and down.
Caz would intercept them and guide them back. Protect them on the way.
Arm around Regan, Hawk moved to the back of the van. With a happy gasp, Regan grabbed Frankie.
Setting the rifle in the van, Hawk picked Aric up for a hug and a quick whisper. “Thanks for the rescue, buddy.” Fuck, he loved these kids.
Man up, Calhoun. After putting the boy down, Hawk whispered to them, “Stay crouched and go there.” He pointed where he estimated Caz was and a route where the van would mostly block them from the sight of the PZs
Aric signaled okay, and the three moved off.