Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
If Tenn thought he had the upper hand, the Learys soon disabused him of that notion. They also sounded like this whole situation was an inconvenience. I knew Tenn was putting on a show. I did not think the Learys were doing the same.
I thought they might be perfectly fine with murder if we made them work too hard to take Elliott. After all, if they'd wanted leverage, they now had both Elliott's son and his ex-wife. Only Tenn was in their way.
One gun was pressed to my head, one to Elliott's, and two more trained on Tenn. My only comfort was that Elliott provided Tenn a full-body shield. Unless the shooter had excellent aim, if one of them shot at Tenn, he'd probably hit Elliott. I couldn't find it in me to care about Elliott. Not when his crappy decisions had landed us in this situation in the first place.
"Look," Tenn said, "we don't care about whatever you want with Elliott. Trade him for Scarlett, we'll take Thatcher, and the three of us will walk away. No interference. We'll disappear."
"I'm keepin' the kid or his ma," the first guy said. "Elliott needs some help stayin' focused."
"Can't let you do that," Tenn said, voice easy, eyes hard.
I started to shake. I couldn't help it. I wanted to hold it together, but Tenn couldn't talk his way out of this. I met Tenn's eyes, trying to communicate without words.
Take Thatcher and go. Leave me.
It's not that I wanted him to abandon me to these guys. I couldn't get my head around what that might mean. I hadn't gotten that far. But he had to get Thatcher out of here. Death aside, the only outcome more horrifying than the Learys taking me was them taking Thatcher. I agreed with Tenn on that point. We were not going to let them take my son.
I don't know if Tenn read my desperate signals. He gave a subtle shake of his head, his eyes flicking to mine. Please, I begged silently. How did I get him to leave me?
I couldn't. In my gut, I knew Tenn wasn't going to take Thatcher and leave me to the Learys no matter how much I begged.
Shocking the hell out of me, Elliott twisted against Tenn's arm until he met my eyes. "Sorry, Scarlett," he gasped out, his crystal blue eyes twisted with remorse. A little late now. I couldn't find it in my heart to come anywhere close to forgiving him. Maybe in about a million years, assuming we got out of this without anyone getting shot. Or worse.
"Let's do what the guy says." Elliott jerked his chin up a fraction, indicating Tenn. "He can take my wife and kid and—"
"She's not your fucking wife." Tenn squeezed his arm tighter around Elliott's neck.
Elliott got his point before I did. "Yeah, yeah, she's not even my wife. We've been divorced for years. She's got nothing to do with this."
"Fine, we let her go and keep the kid." Such a reasonable tone for the inconceivable.
Leave my kid? Not a chance.
I grunted against the arm at my throat.
"See what the little woman has to say," said one of the other Learys. The arm around my neck loosened enough for me to talk if I held completely still.
"Keep me. Let Tenn and Thatcher go."
"Mom, no! You can't—"
"Thatcher, shut up," Elliott and I said in unison. The only thing we'd agreed on in years. Then Elliott had to go and ruin it.
"No way, Scarlett." To the Learys, he entreated, "You don't know her. She's a fucking pain in the ass. Nag, nag, bitch, moan. She'll drive you nuts. And the kid is a pain in the ass, too. Hungry all the time. Misses his games. More bitching and moaning. You don't need anyone else. Just me. I can—"
"You got it?" The first man asked casually.
Elliott stilled. "Not yet, but I know where it might be. I'm going to get it back. I swear on my life—"
"You already swore on your life, ya idgit. Now, I need one of these two so you can swear on theirs."
At the other end of the room, I caught a sound.
A shuffle.
Then a shout, the sound erupting into the room until it was cut off with an abrupt gurgle.
A heavy thud sounded and the arm around my neck loosened just enough for me to turn my head.
One of the Learys was flat on his back, limbs splayed and shaking, wires leading up to a gun-like thing in the hand of a man dressed all in black. He was a wide, tall slab of solid muscle with hard, dark eyes and brutally short brown hair.
I later learned he'd hit the Leary with a taser. He held it in one hand and a handgun in the other, trained on the closest Leary. His partner slid into the room like a ghost, two more weapons drawn, aimed at the other two Learys.