He Can Fall (She Can... #4.5)(15)

Carl stepped in front of them. “What are you doing, Win?”

“You promised. She’s mine,” Win said, defiant as an unruly child.

“Not now. Stay focused,” Carl ordered. “You take spoils after the battle, not in the middle, you dumb shit.”

“Insult me again and you’ll pay.” Win pointed to Carl with the knife. “I’m taking her, and you can’t stop me.”

Carl took a step back. “Damn it. You have fucked up this job from the get-go.”

“I’m going to fuck you up if you don’t get out of my face.” Win brought the knife back to Amanda’s throat. The tension in his forearm amplified with his anger. One sharp move, even an unintentional, impulsive motion, would slice Amanda’s jugular.

“Let him have her, Carl,” Lincoln said. “It’ll keep him out of our hair for a while. Maybe we can figure a way to get out of this hole he dug us into.”

Carl stepped aside. “Be quick about it.”

Win looped Amanda’s hair around his palm. “I’m done when I’m done.”

“Please.” Amanda spat out the words, hating the whine of fear in her voice. Win would get off on her terror. “Don’t.”

“You don’t get to talk.” He backhanded her across the face.

Pain roared through her cheek and echoed in her head. He hauled her into the corridor and let the door to the kitchen close behind them.

“But you can scream if you want to. I like the sound of that.” His pupils dilated. His nostrils flared with rabid excitement. Gripping her hair in a tight fist, he pressed her against the wall. With her head anchored, she could barely move. He squeezed her breast and ground his erection into her belly. Wait. One hand was in her hair, the other groping her. Where was the knife? Amanda separated her thoughts from her body. Forcing her fear and humiliation into the back of her mind, she craned her neck and looked over his shoulder for the knife. There it was. He’d put it in a sheath on the back of his belt. Could she reach it? With her head immobilized, the movement was awkward.

“Looking for me?”

Sean’s voice spun Win around. He reached for the now-empty sheath at his back.

“You touched my wife.” Sean lunged, knuckle-punching Win in the throat.

Amanda heard a popping sound, then a wet gasp. The tension on her hair released. She sagged against the wall. Win collapsed to the ground. His head listed. His mouth was wide open, but nothing went in or out. Unable to breathe or speak with a crushed larynx, he deflated with a gurgle. Watching the man suffocate, Amanda gagged.

The kitchen door opened. “What the fuck?” Leading with the barrel of the shotgun, Carl came through the opening.

Sean stepped in front of Amanda. He grabbed the barrel with both hands, simultaneously shoving it down to point at the floor and ripping the gun from Carl’s grip. Sean swung the stock and caught Carl with a solid blow to the head. Carl went down. Blood leaked from his temple and puddled on the industrial gray carpet.

“There’s one more man,” Amanda whispered.

Sean didn’t acknowledge her comment, but she knew he heard her. He motioned for her to stay behind him and peered through the small window into the kitchen. “Is that him bolting out the back door?”

“Yes.” Amanda hurried to the door just in time to see the man’s running figure disappear into the trees.

They went into the kitchen. Sean set the gun on the floor and dropped to his knees beside the redhead. He checked Tanner’s pulse. “He’s still alive. Let me see if I can get the phone working. He needs a hospital.”

Beyond Tanner, Glenn hadn’t moved.

Amanda went to Glenn. His eyes opened as she touched his shoulder. “How badly are you hurt?”

“Some broken ribs, I think.” Glenn winced. “I’ll make it.”

But his face was pale and his pulse weak. Amanda untied him and looked up at Sean. “We really need help.”

“I’m on it.”

“Wait a fucking minute!”

The shrill, feral voice startled Amanda. She whirled as a shot blasted through the kitchen. The redhead screamed, and Amanda ducked.

The clerk held the shotgun. Her eyes were panicked, and her hands shook enough that Amanda feared the girl would inadvertently pull the trigger again. She aimed the huge barrel directly at Sean’s chest. “What did you do with my Win?”





Sean sized up the black-haired girl who was pointing the shotgun at his center mass. Physically, she was a mess, sweating and shaking, but she looked comfortable with the gun as if she’d handled weapons in the past.

“I thought she was a hostage.”

“Me too.” Amanda stared in shock.

Sean’s body hadn’t processed the adrenaline from the encounters with Win and Carl, and the prospect of killing a woman, barely more than a girl really, turned his stomach sour.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up,” the girl cried. Her hair stuck to her forehead in wet, lanky locks. Mascara dripped black below her eyes. “Win promised me more crack if I helped him rob the store. He promised. Where is he?”

“He’s in the hall,” Sean said.

The girl inched sideways. The gun heavy and unwieldy in her thin arms.

Sean raised his hands chest high, palms out, in a nonthreatening position but ready to react if he got a chance. He still had the handgun in the back of his waistband. He hadn’t used the single bullet on Win for fear of alerting Carl. But he’d never reach it before she blew him in half.