‘Hit—’ His right arm! she’d wanted to shout, but Rafe was suddenly beside her, huffing as he shoved her behind his Subaru.
‘Stay down, dammit,’ he hissed. ‘What are you thinking? You want to get Farrah killed?’
God, no. Please don’t let him hurt her. Trembling, Mercy shifted so that she could see around Rafe.
Both Rafe and Gideon were trying to get a clear line of fire at Ephraim, but Farrah was in Rafe’s way and Gideon’s left hand was shaking. Gideon’s whole body was shaking, his lips pressed together in a harsh line. He was in pain, Mercy realized, and afraid of shooting Farrah by mistake.
Mercy saw the flash of metal a split second before Ephraim plunged a knife into André’s biceps. André shouted a curse, loosening his grip just enough for Ephraim to spring backward, grabbing Farrah as he struggled to his feet. Gideon got off a single shot, but Ephraim had ducked low enough that his head was behind Farrah’s.
The shot missed Ephraim, hitting one of the gateposts instead. His uninjured arm around Farrah’s throat, he dragged her toward the Tahoe, both its front doors open, the motor still running. He’d deftly pulled a golden gun from his pocket, shoving the barrel against Farrah’s temple.
‘Back off, Gideon,’ Ephraim shouted, ‘or I’ll kill her. I swear it.’
Unable to remain silent, Mercy stepped around Rafe. ‘No!’ she screamed as loudly as she could.
Ephraim swiveled his head toward Mercy, and André used the momentary distraction to leap to his feet, pulling his own weapon to aim at Ephraim. André’s voice boomed as he commanded, ‘Let her go.’
Shoot him now! Mercy wanted to scream. But she could see Ephraim’s finger on the trigger and logically knew that even if the bastard got shot in the head, he could release the trigger on reflex in death and Farrah would die. But the logic didn’t calm the frantic need to scream, so she clenched her teeth, keeping the words inside.
‘Drop your guns and step back, boys,’ Ephraim barked. ‘Or I will pull the trigger. I’ll shoot her head off. I have absolutely nothing to lose.’
Farrah’s eyes had closed and her mouth moved, no sounds coming out. But Mercy could see the words on her lips. Please, God, please. Farrah was praying.
Mercy followed suit, afraid to draw a breath.
Gideon and André dropped their guns and stepped back, both breathing hard, fists clenched. Gideon continued to back away, inching toward his Suburban. He was going to follow them.
‘You too, blondie,’ Ephraim said, jutting his chin toward Rafe. His eyes were wild. ‘Then I need to see your hands. Gideon, stop moving, right now. I swear to God, I will shoot her. My finger is fucking itchy.’
André shifted, his hands visible, but curved, as if he wanted to get his hands on Ephraim’s neck again. ‘I will kill you if you harm one hair on her head.’
‘But she’ll still be dead,’ Ephraim snapped. ‘Blondie, drop the fucking gun.’
Rafe dropped his weapon to the snow, and Mercy wanted to pick it up. But it wouldn’t make any difference. She’d only fired a weapon a few times in her life and she didn’t want to get Farrah killed.
‘Very smart.’ Using Farrah as a shield, he backed up until he could hoist himself into the Tahoe. In one movement he put the SUV in gear and shoved Farrah away. She landed on her knees in the snow, collapsing onto her hands as Ephraim floored it, nearly hitting the gatepost when the Tahoe fishtailed as it raced away.
Both André and Rafe dove for their guns, both firing at the Tahoe as it sped out of view. André gave chase, shooting as he ran.
Rafe muttered something about his ‘fucking cane’ as he moved toward his Subaru, dragging his bad leg behind him.
Gideon had already jumped into his Suburban and . . . nothing. Mercy could hear him cursing as she ran to Farrah’s side, dropping to her knees to draw her friend close.
‘Oh my God, oh my God,’ Mercy whispered, rocking Farrah, who was sobbing silently. ‘Did he hurt you?’
Farrah shook her head and clung to Mercy. Rafe had joined them, looking grim as André reappeared, a scowl on his face and Ephraim’s knife still embedded in his upper arm.
‘Fucking sonofabitch,’ Gideon swore as he got out of his SUV.
‘Why didn’t you follow him?’ André yelled, breathing hard. ‘He got away, for fuck’s sake.’
Gideon lifted the hood of the Suburban, shaking his head as he stared at the engine. ‘Because that bastard took my fucking spark plugs,’ he shot back. ‘Fucking asshole.’
Rafe popped the Subaru’s hood. ‘Mine too,’ he muttered once he’d checked. ‘I bet he disabled Erin’s Rover, too.’ He checked the Range Rover’s engine, his shoulders sagging. ‘Motherfucker. We’re stranded here.’
André was now kneeling beside Farrah, and Mercy let her go so that André could hold her. Trembling, Mercy stood, took a few steps, then sank back into the snow when her legs gave out.
‘André,’ Mercy croaked out. ‘Your arm.’ The knife sticking out of his biceps, all the blood in the snow . . . It felt like a bad horror movie. Except it’s real. ‘I’m trying to remember my first aid. Do we pull it out or not?’
Holding on to Farrah with his good arm, André gave the knife a disgusted glance. ‘Depends on how far away we are from help. If more than two hours, we yank it and pray. I’m fine at the moment. It hurts like a bitch, but I can deal.’ He turned his attention back to Farrah, crooning comfort into her ear. ‘You’re okay. I love you.’
‘Gideon!’ Daisy shouted.
Mercy’s attention was yanked toward the hill, where Daisy and Sasha supported a pale Erin between them. Daisy waved a phone at them. ‘Molina’s sending backup.’
‘Thank you,’ Gideon called back. ‘Sat phone,’ he explained before making his way to Erin and taking Daisy’s place when Sasha stubbornly refused to relinquish her hold.
Mercy forced herself to stand, meeting the others at the tailgate of Rafe’s Subaru, which he’d opened so that Erin could be lowered into the hatch. Sasha climbed in beside her, using the blankets and parkas to elevate Erin’s head and feet.
‘She needs a hospital,’ Sasha said quietly. ‘She’s lost a lot of blood and she’s still bleeding.’
‘I’m right here,’ Erin gritted through clenched teeth. ‘Not dead.’
‘Hush,’ Sasha admonished. ‘Let me help you. Rafe, where’s your damn first-aid kit?’
While Rafe got it for her, Mercy pulled the scarf from her neck and handed it to Sasha. ‘Wrap her leg. It’s no tourniquet, but it might help stop the bleeding.’