Buried (Bone Secrets, #3)(91)

“What I want to know is why that bus of kids?” A different voice spoke from Gerald’s right. From the corner of his eye, he saw a man step into the dining room with a gun pointed at him. What the f*ck? Gerald didn’t take his eyes off Brody.

“I’ll kill him! I’ll shoot him right now!” Gerald yelled at the newcomer. “Shoot me and I’ll have a bullet in Brody’s heart a split second later.” He had a solid wall four feet behind him. The other man couldn’t move behind him for an advantage.

“Chris. Don’t shoot.” Brody breathed hard. “He needs to tell me where Jamie is.”

“Jamie’s downstairs. She’s fine.”

Chris Jacobs? Gerald grinned. “You boys got together? You must have a lot in common.” Gerald saw Brody’s gun waver the slightest bit, relief touching his eyes.

“More than you know,” snarled Brody. “Put your gun down.”

“No, f*cker! Why don’t you?” Gerald kept his gaze on Brody.

“Go back downstairs,” Brody ordered Chris. “I need to be the one to do this.”

“No, I’m going to put a bullet in his brain,” Chris insisted. “I will make him pay for what he did to me and my friends. Do you know how often I wished I was dead? While I was in that bunker and after? I’ve been looking over my shoulder all my life for this guy! And now he’s right in front of me.”

A new voice spoke. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Gerald smiled at the sound of his boss.



Thank God. Michael exhaled. Uncle Phillip had spoken from his left.

Now Gerald would back down.

Michael’s rigid stance made his muscles shake, and his right side burned like a red-hot bitch. But he wouldn’t remove his focus from Gerald. He couldn’t.

“No!” Jamie’s voice rang from Uncle Phillip’s direction.

“Here’s something for you, Gerald! Look what I found in the garage,” Phillip said. Brian shot into the dining room, tripping over his feet and sprawling in front of Gerald. “This is the shit that happens when you don’t follow orders!”

Chris leaped forward but was too late. Gerald had already snatched the boy, scrambled to his feet, and held his gun at Brian’s temple. Michael glanced at Chris, who had his gaze locked on his son and his gun locked on Gerald’s head. Chris looked stricken. His son was in the hands of his nightmare.

“Brian.” Chris choked out the name.

Michael realized Phillip had shoved the boy into the room and now had a long blade at Jamie’s neck. Her furious green gaze met Michael’s.

He stared from Jamie to his uncle. “She’s okay, Uncle Phil, she’s with me.”

Phillip had Jamie as a shield. Her eyes were bloodshot, her usually sleek hair raggedy, and she rocked on her feet like she could barely stand. Phillip met his gaze and shook his head.

Michael couldn’t breathe; his lungs had no function. No, Uncle Phil…why? He swung his gun toward his uncle and faltered. “Uncle Phil…” His uncle didn’t let go.

Michael swayed. “Let her go. It’s Gerald, Uncle Phil. Gerald is the one—”

His uncle looked at Gerald. “I can’t believe you fired a gun in my home!”

Gerald blinked. “Accident.”

“There are no f*cking accidents. Look where you’ve put us!” Phillip’s face darkened.

Michael’s vision narrowed, and events snapped neatly into place as his stomach heaved. “You knew,” he accused his uncle, his gun shaking. “You knew what Gerald did!” Michael looked at Jamie. “I’m gonna get you out of here, princess.”

Her gaze held his, and she silently moved her lips. Don’t call me princess.

God damn. He blinked rapidly, realizing he would do anything for her. Give up any possession, any job, any friends to simply spend the rest of his life in her presence and have her smile at him with those eyes.

“Now, Michael,” Phillip said with a patient voice. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but barging into my home with a gun is uncalled for.” His uncle wore his politician’s smile, but his usually lively eyes were dead. The up and down of his emotions was unnatural.

“Uncalled for?” Michael’s head buzzed, and his limbs quivered. “This isn’t a political debate! A killer is your head of security. A killer who murdered children, stole children. My brother and Jamie’s! Your nephew! Why didn’t you do something?”

“Don’t make me hurt your beautiful woman, Michael. We can work this out.”

Michael swung his gun back to Gerald. Skin bulged where the muzzle of the gun dug into Brian’s temple. Red fury hazed Michael’s vision, and he heard Chris suck in a hoarse breath.

Brian was silent. His gaze darting between his father and Michael.

“Shoot me and he’ll slice the woman,” Gerald threatened.

Both Michael and Chris shifted their aim to the governor, who pressed the blade against Jamie’s neck. A drop of blood ran down to her collarbone. His uncle stared back at him, his eyes cold. Why does he still protect Gerald? Over his own nephew? Chris’s gun swung back to Gerald.

Michael’s mind raced. If he shot at his uncle, he could miss and hit Jamie. Either way, Gerald would shoot Brian.