His gun pivots to Addie’s father, who now has two guns pressed against his head. The man’s intentions are clear: killing one will only cement Addie’s need to trade herself to save the only living parent she has left.
“You do that, then there will be no diamond at all.” My gaze snaps to Addie, my heart coming to a screeching halt when I see her holding her knife to her own throat.
Oh, hell no.
Chapter 39
The Diamond
I dig the blade into my skin until I feel a sharp pinch, blood slowly trailing from the wound. Zade’s eyes track it, his eyes alight with fury.
The greasy-haired man returns his gun to my mother, a smart-ass grin on his face.
“Touché, diamond.” He tips his c
hin up to his partner, who’s still holding his weapon to my father. “Grab her.”
Then, he addresses Zade and Sibby, “Both of you drop all those weapons, and kick them away.”
The guy with the baby face approaches me, and I take a big step back. “You don’t get to touch me. Not until I know you won’t hurt any of them.”
His eyes narrow, but then they flit over my shoulder, and a moment later, I feel the danger behind me.
“Fuck, Addie, move!” Zade barks, but it’s too late.
A gun presses into the back of my head, distracting me long enough for his arm to come around and grab ahold of my knife, flinging it to the side.
Concrete fills my bones, my body turning to stone as he wraps his arm around my neck and pulls me back into him, moving his gun to my temple.
“You forgot to check the attic,” the new intruder whispers in my ear. He drops his arm from around my throat and slides his hand across my tailbone and down my thighs, checking for any weapons, and then throwing them to the floor when he locates them. He squeezes my ass for extra measure, and I can’t contain the snarl from slipping free.
Oh, yeah. He’s going to die.
Tension radiates from Zade, his murderous gaze tracking the man’s wandering hand. I bet he’s imagining all the ways he could remove it from his body, just like he did Arch’s. Sibby is still, her eyes bouncing in every direction, probably calculating how quickly she can kill one of them before their gun goes off.
“Better be careful,” Zade murmurs, his eyes boring into the man holding me. “That diamond has sharp edges.”
Baby face turns his weapon on Zade, “Shut the hell up. Both of you get against the wall.”
Zade smirks, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the look in his eyes is deadly.
Sibby refuses to budge, though, so the man storms toward her and grabs her by the arm, attempting to haul her there himself. She goes wild, scratching at him and causing a massive scuffle.
Hooked on the inside of my sleeve is a pen gun—a handy little weapon Zade got me. I put it there for a situation exactly like this, deliberately keeping it out of any apparent spots to hide a weapon. It only has a single bullet, but it’ll be enough.
The chaos distracts all the men enough to slide out the pen gun from my sleeve without any of them noticing.
Sweat beads across my hairline, and though adrenaline is running rampant in my system, calmness overtakes me.
Hurriedly, I take aim on the greasy-haired man and click the button on the pen, the bullet ripping from the small weapon and through the man’s brain, killing him immediately.
The utter surprise is enough time for me to knock away the gun from my head, my captor’s reflexes delayed as he fires off a shot at my feet, scarcely missing my toes. The bullet ricochets, and I think I hear someone gasp, but I’ve already turned around and am sending my fist flying into his face.
My father is shouting through the tape on his mouth, but I can’t look now. My opponent slides a knife from his pocket and swings it at my face.
Rearing back just in time, the blade slices through the air within an inch of my nose. Grabbing ahold of his hand wrapped around the handle, I snap it back, his wrist breaking from the force.
He cries out, dropping the knife. Before I can land another punch, this one to his throat, his head kicks back, a hole now in the center of his forehead.