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“Forget me.” Brendan urged Killian forward with a quick nod of his chin. “Put your full focus on Genevieve’s safety.”
Killian tilted his head and studied him. “I like you, boss. Any man who puts Ms. Gen first is a winner in my book. In a land of snakes, you’re the first man I’ve met who isn’t.”
Brendan blinked in surprise. “Well, Killian, if that’s the case, then welcome to my world.” He winked at Genevieve, giving her credit for another one of her phrases, and continued, “I hope you’re okay with a slower pace. Once we put Jed Marshall behind bars, I think you’ll find your role as our bodyguard relatively boring.”
Killian boomed out a laugh. “Boring and double the money. Sounds nice, boss.” Another spray of bullets pelted the bushes, and Killian sobered his features, locking eyes with Brendan. “Run on the desert side of us. Marshal will be prepared for us to run, and he’ll have his men fire directly at you. You’ll have to use us as shields.”
“I’m not using Gen as a shield ever. Don’t even?—”
“Boss, my job is to protect Ms. Gen and everyone she loves. She won’t be happy if you die. I’ll be the main shield, but you have to run on the desert side of us.”
Genevieve flashed Brendan a smug smile. “Isn’t he the best?”
“I’m suddenly having buyer’s remorse,” Brendan grumbled.
“You’re funny, boss, and stuck with me now,” Killian added meaningfully before repeating, “Desert side.”
Genevieve pecked a quick, vehement kiss on Brendan’s lips. “Let’s hightail it out of here and send a rescue crew back for my mom. I’ve got a confession on tape that Marshal is holding her against her will. That’s got to get us a speedy warrant.”
“I have no doubt that you do. We’ll send artillery back for her, I promise.” Just as Brendan finished delivering his words, chopper blades whirred in the distance.
Genevieve gasped. “Backup. Can we try to find my?—”
“No, Ms. Gen,” Killian intervened firmly, “I’ve only got whatever ammo is left in this gun. I’m out of magazines. We’ve got to make a break for the Hummer now.” He linked his hand under her arm. “Ready, boss?”
Brendan nodded. “Ready.”
Killian sprinted through the scrubby bushes, guiding Genevieve along beside him, and Brendan kept pace on the desert side as instructed. Their shoes connected with the parched earth, and a flurry of fine dust erupted, swirling in the dry air like a miniature sandstorm.
Just paces away from the Hummer’s back door, Marshal jeered, “Oh, Genevieve, I’ve got Momma Dear.” His voice dropped to a lethal tone. “You keep running, and she’s dead.”
“Oh, no!” Genevieve ground to a halt, stopping Killian and himself dead in their tracks. “No, no, no!”
“Run, Gen,” a woman’s voice shouted. “Get in the car!”
Brendan peered out from behind Killian’s shoulder. Marshal stood firm, using Genevieve’s mom as a human shield while holding a gun to her head. Tears streamed down her splotchy, rosy cheeks while her short brown hair stood this way and that in a wayward mess.
“Go, sweetheart,” her mom continued. “Remember what I said. Live your life. Go!”
Brendan’s stomach churned with nausea. He took a deep breath to keep from vomiting on the desert floor. Marshal couldn’t even follow moral rules of engagement when his own men started turning on him. He was such a coward. And Genevieve had him beat, too!
But what chance did they have now? There was no way the woman he loved would run when her mom had a gun to her head. Genevieve was much too caring and brave for that, and so was he because her fire flared his own. He’d die to save Genevieve, and that meant he’d die so she could try to save her mom.
“Wait, Jed,” Genevieve said in a rush, holding her hands out in surrender. “Don’t hurt my mom. You win. After Mr. King and Killian get in the car, I’ll come to your side and follow your terms. No more games. I just want my mom safe.” Her voice broke as she quickly repeated, “I’ll do whatever you say, just don’t hurt her.”
Like hell! Did she really think he’d let that happen? They’d be back to square one, only worse. Brendan would never stop trying to bury Marshal, and Marshal would disappear with Genevieve and all the evidence of his crimes. He’d probably bolt overseas where half a dozen offshore bank accounts were ready and waiting, and she’d be forever trapped in his web under even more brutal terms.
“Oh, no, Gen, please,” her mom pleaded. “Please, sweetheart, get in the car. You have to go. Please go with Mr. King.”
Genevieve twisted her head around and pierced him with a fervent gaze. “I love you, Brendan. Get in the car and go.” With a smile full of heartbreaking anguish, she added, “Do it for me.”
Brendan nodded, shooting her a passionate smile of his own that he hoped she’d think of when she remembered their last moment together. “I love you too. Always, Gen.”
She took in his eyes one last time as if savoring the love that shone from their depths and swiveled her head back around, facing in the direction of Marshal.
Brendan pointed at the pistol in Killian’s hand, and Killian nodded, passing it over. He then gestured toward Genevieve, followed by Killian and the car. Killian nodded again in understanding.
Genevieve started to walk toward Marshal, and Brendan pulled in a deep breath, readying himself while trying to ignore the eight or so bodies lying on the ground that he was about to join face down in the dirt. Surprisingly, most of them appeared to be Marshal’s stronger men, one of whom was Roman. Only Marshal, with Roxy as his shield, and a skinny but capable-looking man remained out in the open with their guns raised. Brendan had no doubt other men lurked in the shadows, though it hardly mattered for his own fate.
