Forgotten Sins (Sin Brothers, #1)(79)

“We’ll see about that.” Max whipped a gun out of a shoulder holster.

Paul shoved away from his desk, the chair scraping across the floor. “You can’t kill her here.”

Oh God. He was really going to shoot her. Josie eyed the gun. If she kneed Max in the nuts, would he drop the weapon?

Max smiled. “I’m not going to kill her.”

Josie’s sigh of relief matched Paul’s.

Max took another step away. “You are, Paul.”





Chapter 24

Paul leapt to his feet. “What? No way. Why would I kill her?” He gaze slid to Josie and then back to Max. “I’m no killer.”

Max cocked the gun. “It occurred to me earlier that I’m taking all the risks here. Should you decide to turn me in, you could certainly strike a deal, considering I killed Billy.” One perfectly creased shoulder shrugged. “So you kill her.” He eyed the young bar owner. “Or I kill you. Either way, I won’t worry about it anymore.”

Paul gulped loudly. “Can’t we just let her go and all leave town?”

Josie slid to the edge of her chair. The pounding of music through the walls turned ominous, the beat thumping her shoes. “Let me go.” Paul’s desk held a stapler, computer, and pens. No good weapons.

Max laughed, a low dangerous sound that rose goose bumps on her skin. He reached into his pocket for a silver cylinder that he twisted on to the end of the gun. “I like you, Mrs. Dean.”

A silencer. She fixated on the small hole at the end, unable to look away. “How exactly do you plan to get my body out of here?” She aimed the question at Paul, feeling some satisfaction as he gasped.

A deep male sigh hissed through Max’s lips. “Through the back door. Of course.” Quick movements had him grabbing Paul and yanking the young man out from behind the desk.

Max thrust the gun into Paul’s shaking hand and pointed the barrel at Josie. “This might make a mess, but I’m okay with that.”

Paul retreated until his desk stopped him, his eyes filling with tears, his hand shaking so wildly he might accidentally pull the trigger.

Her breath caught in her throat, and the room narrowed to razor-sharp focus.

Max stepped away from Paul. “Shoot her, Paul.”

“I’m sorry.” Paul shut his eyes and pulled the trigger.

Josie dropped low before springing forward to smash her head into Paul’s midsection. His back hit the desk. The bullet pinged off a painting. Paul’s air whooshed out of his lungs. He doubled over, and Josie reached for the gun, her sweating hands slipping on the cold metal.

Max shot forward, grabbing her shoulder. She yelled. Pivoting, she rammed her elbow up into his groin. He made a sound crossed between a squealing pig and nails on a blackboard. He bent at the waist, still grabbing for the gun.

Oh God. This wasn’t happening. Josie tucked her hand around the grip panel of the gun, rolling to the far side and standing up. The scent of splintered wood and gunpowder filled the room. She pointed the gun at Max. Paul dropped to his knees, tears and snot running down his face.

Max straightened, his face a mottled purple, his hand pressed against his lower abdomen. “You bitch. Fine, I’ll kill you.”

Josie settled her stance. She’d actually taken the gun from him. Unlike Paul’s, her hand remained steady. Her mind clouded, the aftermath of the adrenaline rush. The room took on a surreal haze, but she kept her gaze on the threat. “I have the gun, *.”

His smile belonged on a Halloween monster. “You won’t shoot me. We both know it.” He took two quick steps forward.

Josie pulled the trigger.

A small boom echoed. Louder than the first shot. Max fell back against the wall. Blood sprayed from his shoulder, and his hand covered the wound, seeping red through his fingers. “You shot me.” His eyes flashed wide and incredulous.

“Of course.” Josie fought to keep her hand steady. “You’re lucky I’m a crappy shot. I was aiming for the center of your chest.” Holy crap. She’d actually just shot him. “Did you think I’d let you kill me? That I wouldn’t shoot you?” How unbelievable. She’d been a survivor since day one in this life. Apparently looks truly were deceiving.

The door crashed open.

Shane rushed inside with Matt on his heels, both holding square, dangerous-looking guns. He took in the scene, gray eyes expressionless. “Angel.” He looked back and forth between the two damaged men and her. “Are you all right?”

“Fine.” Though now that the danger had ebbed, her knees felt like rubber. A pounding set up at the base of her skull. Crazy adrenaline. “Are you?” She glanced down at the red that stained his shirt.

He nodded, his pale face tightening. “Yes. Bullet skimmed my abs. Bloody but not dangerous.”

Sirens cut through the late afternoon.

Matt tucked his gun in the back of his pants. “Looks like you have things taken care of here.” His grin reached his eyes. “You’re something, honey.”

Josie tried to smile in response, but her lips refused to cooperate. She’d shot a man.

Shane stepped between Josie and Max, his gun trained on Max’s heart. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you later.”

Matt took one last glance around the room. With a nod, he hurried out the door.