Secrets Never Die (Morgan Dane #5)(78)

Lance kept quiet. If Aaron went with Tina, maybe Morgan could get Rylee to safety.

“I’ll get it for you,” Tina said. “I don’t even care about it anymore. Just take it and go.”

“No fucking way. This girl is my insurance.” Aaron looked over the railing. “Better think fast. The water is rising. You’re going to lose your son.”

“OK. I’ll take you to the money.” Tina started to move.

“Hold on.” Aaron reached into his pocket and pulled out two zip ties. He handed them to Tina and motioned toward Lance and Morgan. “Tie their hands behind their backs. Don’t do anything stupid. I will shoot this little bitch’s face right off.” He waved the gun at Rylee’s nose.

Tina took the ties and walked toward Lance. Aaron grabbed Rylee by the hair and hauled her in front of his body. He pressed the muzzle of the gun into her temple. Lance couldn’t tell if it was rain or tears running down Rylee’s face.

He tried to catch Tina’s gaze, but her eyes were cold and determined as she refused to make eye contact. She glanced one more time at the water rushing across the bottom of the ravine. She would do anything to save her son. Anything. Lance, Morgan, and Rylee could be collateral damage. She was creating distance between them without taking a step.

And there wasn’t a damned thing Lance could do about it. He was too far away to even consider trying to disarm Aaron.

She moved behind Lance. He cooperated, putting his hands behind his back. He made two fists and pressed the heels of his palms together as she tightened the strap. She moved on to tie Morgan’s hands the same way.

“Turn around,” Aaron yelled. He examined Lance’s binds and seemed satisfied. “Take his gun and slide it toward me.”

“I’m sorry.” Tina lifted Lance’s handgun from his holster, placed it on the wooden deck, and pushed it toward Aaron.

“It’s OK.” Lance would have done it himself to keep Aaron from shooting Rylee.

The gun stopped a few feet short of Aaron’s feet.

“Check her for a weapon too,” Aaron ordered.

Tina lifted the hem of Morgan’s jacket and removed her weapon from its holster. She slid it across to join Lance’s Glock.

Aaron tried to reach the weapons with his foot but couldn’t. He stooped, dividing his attention between Lance, Tina, and Rylee. He looked down and grabbed Lance’s gun.

The gun pointed at Rylee’s temple shifted, its barrel dropping toward the deck. The instant the muzzle pointed away from her face, Rylee attacked Aaron. She slammed her head backward into his, then grabbed for his gun arm with both hands.

Lance bent at the waist and raised his bound hands. The plastic dug into his skin. He slammed his hands down onto his lower back as hard as he could. The tie didn’t give. He tried again, this time using more force and pulling his hands apart as his forearms hit his body. The zip tie snapped.

He was free.

A gunshot boomed. Red bloomed across Rylee’s thigh. She froze and looked down.

“Stupid bitch.” Aaron punched her in the head.

Using the distraction, Lance launched himself at Aaron, catching him in a full tackle. They went down on the deck, slid across the water-slicked wood, and tumbled down a short flight of steps. Lance was on the bottom when they came to a stop on the first landing. Out from under the branches, he could barely see. Torrential rain beat down on his face.

Aaron must have dropped his gun. Straddling Lance’s chest, Aaron wrapped both hands around Lance’s neck and squeezed. Lance gagged as two thumbs pressed on his windpipe. He raised his arms, folded them so his forearms overlapped, and used them as a lever to press down on the insides of Aaron’s elbows. Aaron’s arms bent, and Lance pinned his attacker’s hands down. The pressure on Lance’s throat eased.

He dragged in a breath, the oxygen reviving him.

With Aaron’s hands and wrists pinned to his chest, Lance bent one leg and hooked his foot around Aaron’s ankle. Then Lance bridged over his own shoulder. With his foot trapped against Lance’s thigh, Aaron could not extend his leg sideways for balance. The maneuver should have flipped them over and positioned Lance on top, but they rolled down the next flight of steps.

Lance fell sideways, his shoulder slamming into step after step as he slid across the treads on his side. His descent was stopped by the safety railing on the lower observation deck. He slammed into the wooden rungs, the impact knocking the wind out of his lungs.

Aaron was on his feet, coming at Lance. Something shiny gleamed in his hand.

A knife.

Adrenaline surged through Lance’s blood like twenty espressos. He scrambled to his feet. Aaron lunged. The blade swiped at Lance’s belly. Lance jumped backward, turning his gut away from the track of the weapon. Aaron came at him again, stabbing at his midsection. Lance dodged the blade again.

Lance maneuvered away from the confines of the railing. He backed off the deck onto open ground. He needed room to move. Aaron followed, waving the knife back and forth in the air. Lance feinted left. Aaron countered. Then Aaron attacked, making a hard line for Lance’s face. Lance ducked, turned, and grabbed Aaron’s wrist with both hands. He bent Aaron’s hand backward, applied pressure, and twisted until he felt the bone snap. The knife fell to the ground.

With an angry roar, Aaron ran at Lance. He caught him around the waist, and they careened toward the swollen water. They went over the edge of the bank and fell into the freezing river. Lance hit a boulder, slid off, and was sucked into a deep eddy. The last thing he saw as the water closed over his head was the storm raging above him.