Carter Reed 2 (Carter Reed #2)(60)

It was my fault. I couldn’t say anything in return. My fingers clutched her arm, and I clasped a hand to her shoulder. Together, like that, we made our way down the stairs. She gestured ahead. “Through the kitchen. There’s a back area.”

I nodded.

As we came to the kitchen, I made sure she could stand alone, and then I stepped inside. I needed to go first, in case someone was there. I would fight back, not her, but no one was there. A door was off its hinges behind the stove. I could see a small walkway back there. I gestured for Andrea, and she scurried behind me. She took hold of the back of my shirt, and I edged forward, holding a gun in my hand. The scream came from that way.

They were back there.

One step at a time, we inched forward.

The walkway was small and narrow. I could see lights below it. It led into an area that seemed to be underground. There was shouting below us.

“No! Ahhh—”

Others yelled, but all of them were interrupted as a gunshot sounded. Whatever was below, or whoever, they were killing the people yelling.

“You fu—”

Another gunshot.

The person silenced.

“Emma,” Andrea whispered. “We should go.”

Carter was down there. I shook my head. “No.”

“Emma.” She tugged again. “You don’t understand. These people—”

Bang!

We both jumped. That shot was so near that my eardrums echoed from the deafening sound. Holding a hand over my ear, I stepped to an open doorway. Then my heart sank, again.

A man stood with his back to me, and he held a gun, aimed at Carter. Drake was on the floor with blood spilling from him. I scanned his body. The gunshot was in his shoulder. I hoped the bullet had gone clear through, like with Peter.

Carter saw us, but averted his eyes right away.

This was life or death.

I untangled Andrea’s hand from my shirt and edged forward. When she realized I was leaving her there, she shook her head. But it had to be this way. She had to stay. I told her this silently with my hand, then held a finger to my mouth. She also needed to remain quiet. Her head bobbed up and down. She seemed to understand what I was going to do.

“Stay right there,” the guy ordered Carter. He held the gun steady and stepped closer to him. Two steps. His back was rigid, his shoulders tense. He wasn’t steady and didn’t really seem in control. At any moment, he could shoot.

I wouldn’t let that happen.

Slowly, I edged inside the room and raised my own gun.

My arms were straight, and I aimed carefully.

Carter watched me now. His eye twitched. I didn’t know why—then I said, “Put it down.”

The guy tensed immediately. He began to turn around.

I moved forward. “Put. Your. Gun. Down.” My gun was right behind him. My heart pounded so loud I could barely hear myself. “Put it down. Now.”

“Emma,” Carter said.

I couldn’t hear anything else. My pulse was deafening. The guy still hadn’t done what I said, and I gestured to the floor. “Drop it. Now.”

He didn’t. He turned and pointed his gun directly at me—then all hell broke loose. As soon as his gun cleared from Carter, I heard Carter yelling, “Get down!”

I sank to the floor. The guy wavered, confused at seeing Andrea behind me. I twisted around and yelled at her, “Get down!”

She gasped, then fell to the floor.

At the same moment, Carter lunged. His elbow came down on the guy’s arm, and he yanked the gun from his hands before ramming his elbow into his head. The guy fell to the floor. His hips landed not far from me, just as someone else ran into the room. The shooter reached behind him, even as he was falling, and pulled out a second gun. I recognized Michael just as the shooter pointed his second gun at him—

Bang!

The shooter went limp. His gun fell from his hand and skidded across the room. Standing above him, with his gun cupped in both hands, was Carter.

He’d shot him.

The guy was going to shoot Michael, and Carter killed him instead.

We were all safe.

A gurgle came up my throat. I was relieved, terrified, and joyous all at the same time. I pushed myself to sitting, but Carter was there.

He swept me up, picking me clean off the floor and wrapped his arms around me. He buried his head into my shoulder. “Oh my god.” He trembled as he held me. “Oh my god.” His hand stroked my hair. “You’re alive. Thank god.”

I was alive. So was Andrea. Peter. Drake. Michael. And Carter, too. I leaned back and framed his face. “I love you so much.”

Tears covered his face. He pressed his lips to my forehead, then my mouth. I didn’t care what happened after that. Carter was safe. We were all safe.

The police were suspicious, but Andrea corroborated our story.

She and I had been on our way home from a restaurant nearly two months ago. We were attacked. They took her, and my life was in danger, so I hid. Carter got a tip, went in search for her, and that was the showdown they found when they were called to the building. It hadn’t been long before the cops and medics showed up. Andrea was found. We could no longer hide.

When I was cleared after I gave my statement, I walked through the police station and saw Carter in an interrogation room. Our eyes met and held, but neither of us showed any reaction. I was thankful he was alive. I had to trust him with everything else.