“We need to get up to the house,” I told Thorn and Max. “Marty’s not hesitating to kill; we shouldn’t be either.”
At their nods of agreement, the three of us took off at a steady jog toward the main cabin.
The one-story structure came into view moments later. Years of neglect had made the place look ready to be torn down, with its faded paint, evident cracks in the shutters, and several winters’ worth of foliage on the deck.
I made a signal for the three of us to split up. Thorn and Max took the left and right respectively while I approached head-on.
I approached the cabin silently, and in two long strides that avoided any creaks in the wood, crossed the deck, pressing against the wall next to the front window. A quick glance inside had my heart hammering.
Layla.
She was sitting on the couch, her hands and feet bound as Marty rushed around packing a duffle.
We’d arrived in time. Thank Christ.
“Don’t even think about it.” He pointed a finger at Layla before leaving the room, likely headed for one of the bedrooms.
I stepped in full view of the window, wanting her to see me. As soon as she spotted me, her eyes popped wide with surprise before filling with tears. Despite looking exhausted, she didn’t seem to have been harmed.
I pressed a finger to my lips, and she nodded readily.
Bound as she was, she couldn’t come to me; I’d need to go to her. I moved around the side of the house, looking for an access point that would be more covert than the front door, and found an open window on the side. I hoisted myself up and dropped soundlessly into a small den.
Marty was back in the living room where Layla was, pacing in agitation. “No fucking money has been transferred,” he snarled. “Guess your man doesn’t care as much about you as he thought. Or maybe,” he leaned menacingly in her face, “he’s not taking me seriously. Maybe it’s time you lost a digit or two.”
And then I was on him, coming up from behind, my hand wrapping around his mouth, my gun pressed to his temple. “Think again, asshole,” I warned.
“Fuck.” He grunted, trying to fight against me just as Thorn appeared, having likely entered from somewhere in the back of the house.
“Thorn!” I hollered a warning when suddenly a woman appeared behind him, a gun raised in her hand.
He whirled just as she got a shot off, sending him reeling backwards. Responding gunfire cracked the air, hitting her square in the shoulder of her shooting hand as Max stepped into the room, his gun smoking.
She collapsed, groaning as her weapon clattered to the ground.
Thorn crouched down and picked it up, clutching his arm where he’d been shot.
“You good?” I demanded.
He nodded, gritting his teeth as blood seeped through his fingers. “She must’ve been in the bathroom, ’cause the rest of the house was clear. That was the only room I couldn’t get line of sight to.”
I pressed my gun firmly into Marty’s temple. “Any other surprises?” I growled.
“There’s no one else here.” His voice was low, full of defeat.
I turned eyes to Layla, who had shrunk back into the couch cushions as far as she could, her eyes wide with terror. “It’s okay, baby,” I assured her, wanting more than anything to wrap my arms around her.
Soon.
Chapter 28
LAYLA
My ears were ringing from gunfire, my heart hammering in terror as I watched Cash shove Marty in front of him, his gun aimed at his chest.
He nodded toward Max, the two sharing a silent conversation I didn’t understand before he returned his full attention to Marty. “You killed Palmer?” he demanded.
“Yep,” Marty replied proudly, his hands raised defensively.
“For her?” Cash nodded toward Teresa, who was sitting with her back against the wall, blood seeping from her shoulder. “Or to keep all the blackmail money to yourself?”
“Both,” Marty sneered. “Palmer was worthless. It may have been his idea to blackmail the Riders but it was mine to expand things here in Hawthorne,” he boasted. “Teresa was tired of his shit. I figured I’d help her out and dispose of him.”
“How romantic,” Max muttered dryly.
Marty’s eyes swung toward him, hate shining in them, just as the sound of sirens wailing pierced the air.
“Fuck,” Cash growled, clearly not pleased. “Really didn’t want the cops in our business on this one.”
“They figured it out quick,” Max commented, sounding surprised.
“Probably wasn’t hard, like it wasn’t for us,” Cash replied. “Once they found Palmer’s body, his wife probably became the prime suspect, and this property isn’t hard to find.”
“Couple of dipshits,” Thorn grumbled to himself as the sound of sirens grew closer.
“Layla, I want you to stay right where you are,” Cash commanded. “It’s gonna get crazy for a bit but it’s gonna be fine. Layla,” he pressed when my eyes darted around the room, focusing on Thorn. I was worried about him. At Cash’s tone, I looked back at him. “Baby, it’s gonna be fine,” he repeated.
He was so self-assured, so steady that despite the impending chaos, I took a deep breath, and like I did with everything else, I trusted him completely.
Seconds later, the front door burst open and heavily armed police stormed the room, all shouting commands, guns drawn. Cash remained calm, holstering his weapon and putting his hands up. “Who’s in command?” he demanded. “Brenner?” he guessed, his gaze toward one of the officers.
At the man’s nod, Cash began to share what had happened—in detail. “Have the confession recorded,” he concluded, pointing toward Max. Now I understood what the two of them had shared a look about. “Now, I need to see to my wife. You got this piece of shit?” he asked, shoving Marty toward the nearest officer. “And let the paramedics look at my pop. He’s been shot.”
“We’re not done, Walker,” Brenner warned, but Cash was already striding toward me. He dropped to his knees in front of me and pulled out the Swiss Army knife he kept on his key chain. “Let’s get you untied,” he murmured, getting to work on the electrical tape binding my wrists and my ankles.
I bit my lip, trying not to show how much ripping it off hurt as my hair and some skin came off along with the tape.
“Baby.” His voice was pained. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m okay, get this shit off,” I replied firmly. He did what I asked, getting to the rest of the binding at my ankles. The moment he was done, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, burying my face in his neck. “Riley?” I demanded.
“She’s fine,” he soothed, rubbing my back in soothing circles. “I’m gonna get you home to her. But first, I wanna have you checked out.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted. I just wanted to see Riley and to go home.
He pressed his forehead to mine. “Baby, I don’t know what he drugged you with, and you could be pregnant. I’m not taking any chances.”
When he put it that way, I couldn’t argue. “You called me your wife,” I pointed out as he held me close. The chaos continued to swirl around us as Marty was handcuffed and carried out to a cruiser, but in that moment it was as though it was only us.