Forgotten Sins (Sin Brothers, #1)(34)

Josie hustled across rough tiles. “Tom! Put the gun down.”

Shane tensed, muscles bunching. She was getting too close to the gun. “Step back, angel.”

Marsh widened his stance. “Call the police, Josie. Tell them the major is here.”

Shane relaxed his shoulders. “Do call the police. Before the men outside wake up.”

Pale, her lips trembling, she nodded and hurried down a Sheetrocked hallway to do his bidding.

Shane kept his gaze on the builder, taking inventory of the entryway. The walls were mostly bare, freshly painted. One watercolor of a forest scene covered the farthest wall. Its frame would make an excellent weapon, should he need one. He focused outside. The men outside remained silent, the forest was at peace. He smiled at Marsh. “You a good guy, Tom?”

“Yes.” One eyebrow rose. “Much better than you.”

Probably. Shane nodded, glancing behind Marsh. Swift as a whisper, he dodged forward, grabbed the gun, and hooked a leg around the man’s knee. They crashed to the floor. Shane leveled his forearm against Marsh’s windpipe, digging his knees into the tile while the man struggled for air.

Finally, Marsh went limp.

Shane hissed out a breath. The guy had struggled longer than Shane would’ve thought. He jumped to his feet, rushing through the house toward the direction of the garage. The door stood to the right of the refrigerator, leading to a large, well-organized space. He grabbed a water ski rope off the far wall and took the outside exit, quickly tying up the unconscious soldiers.

Should he tie up Tom? He wanted to. Probably unnecessary, though. He gathered an extra length of rope and returned to the entryway.

His wife waited, her bare legs apart. His gaze ran up her smooth thighs, flat stomach, and focused on the gun in her hands. His angel held the weapon with confidence, aiming the barrel square at his chest.

“Drop the rope,” she said calmly.





Chapter 10

Shane released the rope, and measured strides took him inside the house. Next to Tom’s prone body.

“Stay back, Shane.” Josie kept a steady grip on the weapon. For a tiny thing, the woman had long, sexy-as-hell legs. Shit. She was all leg. The shirt came to mid-thigh, leaving much to be appreciated. She’d painted her cute toes a deep red. The color of passion.

“I like your toes.”

Her lips tightened while her stance widened. “I don’t want to shoot you, but I will.” She glanced down at Tom before lifting her gaze. “Will he be all right?”

“Yes.” Geez. Shane wouldn’t hurt the guy trying to protect her. Well, not much anyway. “We need to go, angel. Give me the gun.” He reached out and moved toward her.

“If you ever hurt him, I’ll never forgive you.” She stepped back, raising the barrel to Shane’s face. “We’re waiting here for the police. I don’t know you. Or trust you.”

“Can’t blame you.” This was a bad idea, but he couldn’t think of another way to keep her safe.

Or maybe he didn’t want another way.

He took another step, putting her within touching distance. At this point, he didn’t trust anyone. His head ached. Something in his gut turned. Even if he was the bad guy, he needed to keep her safe. That had to make him somewhat good, right?

He shook his head. Probably not. With that realization, he gave himself over to the inevitable. Nothing would make him desert her this time. “We’re leaving, Josie. Come easy or hard, but we’re going.”

Her arms trembled. “Please don’t make me shoot you.”

“I won’t.” His hand snaked out, smacking the gun from her grasp. The weapon slammed against the wall. Sirens bellowed in the distance. Leaping forward, he grabbed her by the arms and ducked a shoulder, rising when she flopped over.

“Hey!” she yelped, kicking him in the stomach.

Pain echoed in his gut. He wrapped an arm around her thighs, turned, and ran into the night. She struggled, yet he maneuvered between trees and branches. He stopped at his makeshift bed and grabbed the sleeping bag with one hand, not missing a step.

Her entire body shifted as she sucked in air, letting out a high-pitched bellow that silenced the forest.

Damn it all to hell. He swung her around and pressed her against a tree, his hand covering her mouth. Blue eyes shot furious darts, so he leaned in close. “One chance, angel.” Vehicles screeched to a loud stop back at the house. She bit his palm. “Josie.” He pressed harder against her face. He’d kill himself if he hurt her. “We need to get out of here,” he whispered as fury rose within him. “You can work with me, or I’ll take you unconscious. But either way, we’re going.” He let every ounce of determination and threat leak into his eyes.

Her knee shot toward his testicles. Oh no, not this time. He slid his leg between hers, immobilizing her. If she needed a contest of strength to obey him, she’d get it. His jean-clad thigh pressed against her light panties. “You sure you want to fight me?” A frown narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think you’ll knock me out.”

His heart stilled. Not what he’d been expecting. Did that mean she trusted him? On some level? “You’re wrong.” He flexed his fingers. “To get you away from danger, to get you to safety, I’ll do whatever I need to do.” His fought to keep his expression blank.