Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1)(80)

He left the guy where he lay, dropped the knife into the thigh pocket on his cargo pants, and slid noiselessly into the house, gun in hand.

Light filtered from a corridor that led from the open door off the front room. A male voice droned from it. He crept closer, bracing himself for whatever hit his eyes.

Caro lay on a plastic-wrapped bed, her shirt sliced open, arms stretched up, ziptied. The man he’d heard talking was leaning over her.

Caro saw him. Her sudden eye movement betrayed him.

Noah jerked back as the guy dropped down behind the bed into a crouch and opened fire, right over Caro’s naked torso. Noah dropped to the floor and aimed beneath the bed, for his feet.

Two shots. A hoarse yell. He’d scored a hit. Caro screamed.

“Get out, hands up, or she dies,” the guy said. “On three. One . . . two . . .”

“Don’t hurt her,” Noah broke in. “Olund needs her alive to open that safe. He’ll kill you if you hurt her. Count on it.” He held his breath, waiting.

The silence was broken only by sobbing gasps from Caro.

“Get out with your hands up, motherf*cker,” her captor said. “I don’t give a shit what Olund wants right now. I swear, I will kill her, if you f*ck with me.”

“Don’t do it,” Noah said. “Don’t shoot me, either.”

He crawled forward. There was rustling and grunting from the direction of the bed, which made his heart thud. But Caro was alive. So far. That much he knew.

The guy was cursing, hissing through his teeth. Caro made a sharp sound. A cut-off cry of pain.

“I bet you hate that prick Olund, because everybody who knows him does,” Noah said. “But how about his money? You want some of that?”

“What the f*ck are you talking about?” The rustling stopped. Raw, choppy breaths from the man.

“Want to be rich?” Rolling the dice, betting on greed and curiosity. Distracting him.

“Fuck you, man,” the wounded man gasped out. “This ain’t no game show.”

“Just hear me out. Before anyone else gets hurt.” Noah rose slowly, letting the gun dangle from his spread fingers as he stepped into the doorframe, hands up.

A bald man with a black and silver goatee crouched against the wall. Blood coursed down his face. More leaked from his boot. He’d slashed Caro’s restraints, and pulled her down on top of himself as a shield. He held the gun to her temple and held Caro clamped against his chest. Blood trickled down in long rivulets between her breasts. A knife lay next to them on the floor. The blade was bloodied. He’d been using it to cut her.

The bastard was pretty f*cking quick, for an unmod. But there were claw marks on his face. Caro had done that. Good for her.

She looked up at Noah. Her lips tight, but her eyes were clear. Her sig was ablaze.

“Take the ammo out of the gun,” the thug commanded.

“Don’t hurt her,” Noah said.

“I swear to God, I will cut her throat right now if you don’t empty that gun and kick it over to me.” The blade dug in deeper. Blood pooled in her navel.

Noah pulled out the magazine, dropped it to the floor, kicked it.

“Take out the chambered round,” the man said. “Toss the bullet over here. And slide me the gun. Now, f*ckface.”

He did as he was told. The bullet bounced and rolled right into the puddle of blood at the man’s feet. The gun rattled across the plywood floor.

“Don’t hurt her,” Noah said again. “She’s the only one who can open Olund’s safe. She doesn’t know what’s inside it. But I do. Major money. You in?”

“Shut up, *, or she’ll feel it.” The guy whacked Caro in the side of the head with the gun butt. Noah buzzed on the raging edge of a supernova.

Not now. Not yet. Not with a gun to Caro’s head. Not. Yet.

“You must be the son of a bitch who f*cked up my team yesterday,” the man snarled. “I’m not doing any goddamn deals with you.”

“Hear me out,” Noah said. “I hate that psycho prick, and I want him dead, preferably slowly, and screaming. But I have nothing against you . . . yet. There’s no reason you and I couldn’t cut a deal.”

“You are so full of shit.” The man shoved the gun barrel against Caro’s face. She winced as it dug into her cheek. “What the f*ck would I need you for?”

“Getting the job done right,” Noah said calmly. “You’d have to take down Mark on your own otherwise. It’ll be a whole hell of a lot easier to do with me.”

“Oh, God,” Caro said shakily. “No! No, you can’t—”

“Shut up and do as you’re told,” Noah said curtly.

“Talk fast,” the bleeding man said. “I’m getting bored.”

More like about to pass out from shock. The wound was serious. But the guy was tough. “Mark never told you what was in that safe?”

He watched the guy’s sig carefully, filtering out Caro’s overlay.

“It’s not my f*cking business what’s inside,” the guy growled.

Noah read defensiveness, conflict and anger. The man holding Caro really didn’t know what was in the safe, and he was curious, even if he was afraid of Mark. He was smart, and his survival instincts were good.