Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Brian hadn’t so much as uttered a sound. He just watched.
“You can’t keep us here like this. I wanna’ see your goddamn warrant,” Guts snarled.
Brian slowly brought his hand up. Before he could even get it midway, all the screaming came to an abrupt stop. Guts’ teeth clicked shut with a hard snap. Even the silent one had turned away. The leather material around his arm creaked under the stretch— until his pointer finger was over his lips. He made no sound, no air, no breaths. Just a gesture of an instruction. Be quiet. She’d be wise to follow it. And she did.
“Final warning. Where is he?” Ford growled, standing directly behind Brian. His brother stepping in with his powerful voice to say what he couldn’t. A voice that Brian wished he—
“Answer!” Duke barked, his patience waning.
Silence.
This sound he knew. A lot of people didn’t understand the power of silence, but Brian did. He tilted his head, then inched in even tighter. He knew how to intimidate with his six-foot three-inch bulk when he needed to. He didn’t like to make women feel trapped or in trouble, but these women would be if they didn’t confess soon. Harboring a fugitive was a crime. His team did have a warrant and the papers for Demarcus’ revoked bond from the court, with a capias for his arrest. He hoped all three made the right decisions. Going to jail for some illegal gun-selling dirt bag wasn’t worth it.
Most likely the girlfriend wouldn’t blab, and the third girl looked like she’d probably piss herself if Brian stood in front of her. Then he saw it. The unconscious, subtle shift in gutsy girl’s attention to something on the floor. He’d caught the slip-up before she’d even realized she’d done it. That was his specialty. Brian whipped his head around and stared at the mess. Clothes, pizza boxes, beer bottles, shot glasses, and some joint butts were scattered around but nothing else. Then something out of place made Brian narrow his eyes. It was the newish-looking four by six area rug in the corner, just before the hallway that led to the empty bedrooms. It made no sense being there. The most decorative thing in that crappy house was a faded patchwork quilt that had been thrown over the tattered gray love seat. Brian was no decorator, but he could see that there was absolutely no need for an out-of-place, cheetah print throw rug.
Brian turned and moved over to the corner, signaling for his team to get into position. Brian reached behind him and pulled out his own chrome and black forty-five. He held the felt grip tightly, his finger hovering just over the trigger. He peeled back the rug with the tip of his boot, revealing a recently built hidden door.
Son of a bitch.
“Where does this lead?” Duke yelled in the girlfriend’s face, his black Glock pointed at the trap door.
“Nowhere. It wasn’t able to get finished,” Guts spoke up, ignoring the girlfriend’s betrayed look. “Get him and take him out of here. I’m finished with the hiding.”
Brian waited for his brother and Dana to clear the females out of the room—just in case Demarcus came out swinging. One final stand. Brian counted down three fingers before he flipped the door open with a quick jerk, the thick wood slamming against the floor. Quick was right there with his flashlight nestled along his Sig, aiming it into the darkness. The hole was shallow and moist, their bounty’s five-foot-nine frame pressed as flat to the dirt wall as he could get. He looked like he wished he could meld into the soil. His face was dirty and caked with grime, his pupils blown wide with determination and fear.
“I’m not going back to jail,” their bounty choked out.
“Give it a minute to sink in. Because you’re going back…now,” Duke answered, looking around the eerie hideaway. “This was smart, Demarcus, you almost fooled us. But not quite smart enough.”
Quick nodded. “Yep. It’s way too damp down there to build a tunnel, man. That thing might’ve collapsed on you.”
“You sound so concerned, Quick. Fuck you very much,” The bounty rumbled angrily, staring up at them with disappointed eyes.
“All you had to do was show up for court. I tried to let you turn yourself in. It’s been three months, Demarcus. Now it’s three hots and cot for you, man. At least for the next few years.” Duke stood tall, gesturing for Ford to secure their bounty’s hands; while he cursed all of them to hell on his way out of the door.
Duke clamped Brian on his shoulder. “Good work, Brian. Demarcus was slippery. Way to stay on it, bro.”
Brian tucked his weapon away. Duke had been ready to tear him a new one just a few minutes ago, but now that he had his bounty he was good. Duke didn’t tolerate mistakes or fuckups. As it had been during Brian’s ten years on his SEAL team, everything was planned and executed with expert precision. All of them had too much… someone, to live for. All except him.