Or rather,on me.What the hell?
“Let me go,” the old man mutters weakly, still holding his head. “Or they will kill her.”
Wilder lifts his head to the men. “What the fuck?”
“I have a device on me. They are listening in at all times. Good protection knows how to read the lay of the land. I assume they’ve surmised, as have I, that this pathetic creature means something to you. I suppose now we find out how much. I repeat, let me go, and we disappear. She lives. Or...you can have me, but you don’t get her. If you kill my men after, it’s too late. She’s still dead. You could try to shoot first, but I assure you they are excellent shots. Ex British SAS. The highest trained soldiers in the world, so they say. Dare you risk it? Riskher?”
My throat is so constricted with fear it is like breathing through mud. Will they choose me or their revenge?
What if, all along, I’ve overestimated their feelings for me? What if they are here for him, and I’m merely an added benefit? They get me back for some more fun, and get their revenge?
They look at one another, and Asher nods. Brody dips his head. Wilder hangs his as if he’s given up.
Oh, my God. Are they going to let me be killed?
“Get the fuck out of here,” Rafferty growls. “Wewillfind you again.”
“Not in this lifetime.” The man stands and wobbles. Neither of the men help him; they don’t take their weapons, or their eyes, from me for a second.
When they leave, the pastor shuffling between them, I run to Wilder and take him in my arms. “You need help,” I say.
When he looks at me, I’m shocked to see his eyes are glassy.
These men have just given up something at great, almost incalculable, cost to themselves, all to save me.
Chapter Sixteen
Honor
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“YOU REALLY ARE GOINGto tell us everything now,” Asher says to Don. “He’s left you here to die, so you owe him nothing. Save yourself. Tell us all you know about Pastor Wren.”
Don coughs, and the sound rattles a little, deep in his chest. “Then you’ll get me medical help?” he asks.
There’s a desperation to his words now. It’s as if the closer death gets to stealing him away, the more he fears it. Maybe prison doesn’t sound so bad after all if death is the alternative creeping over you?