Page 47 of Point Blank

Kill them first.

Until Friday night, she’d never killed anyone. She and Dani took self-defense classes regularly. She was capable enough to get out of most situations, but she’d never thought about needing to use her skills to kill someone. Until now, she hadn’t had to.

She cleared the croak from her throat and forced it down. Thoughts scattered around her brain like spilled marbles. Pressing her fingers into her temples until the tender tissue ached, she rolled her fingers in a circular motion. “Killing them will start a war. Whoever is behind the kidnapping will put a bounty on our heads.”

Milo positioned his arms on the counter and his elbow touched hers. “Look, I didn’t want to say this at the beginning, but we’re just gophers in this game. Do you honestly believe they’re going to just take the ransom and let us leave with Dani? You saw her face in the first video call, right? She could identify them.” He exhaled a long, low breath. “I’m sorry, Serena, but their plan from the beginning has been to kill us all after we give them the diamonds.”

Dammit, she hated that he was right. She straightened her back one vertebra at a time until she sat erect.

She wasn’t going to let Dani die, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to give the kidnapper reason to kill her sister before the drop-off. They had no choice but to carry out the heist and take the jerk’s diamonds.

Tapping the edge of her thumb against the soft spot of her head, she kept her gaze down. “Fine.” Her voice held the firm determination that had taken up residence in her bones. “I hope you have enough guns.”

Milo stared at the drone images of Titus’s property, which Serena had requested the previous week. Twenty-eight shots of every possible angle leading to the house, and aerial views of the palm-tree-laden two-acre lot the property sat on. The house was a Spanish-inspired desert retreat, and the courtyard was complete with fountain, infinity pool, and guest house.

Illegal diamond importation sure was a lucrative business.

The day had been spent drinking coffee, going over plans and making a checklist of everything they’d need for tonight.

Serena shuffled through papers and pointed to a sheet. “Two guards are on duty around the clock.”

Milo crinkled his lip. The odds weren’t horrible—two against three—but he didn’t want Serena to get caught in the crossfire.

“We need more men,” Brock said, from the other side of the island. The last few hours had taken their toll on him. Gone was the lightness in their exchanges. Now when Brock spoke it was only for good reason.

Brock had it bad. Milo remembered the two lovebirds from years ago. He’d never expected Brock and Dani to split. And if Milo wasn’t mistaken, Brock was still madly in love with her.

Milo nodded. “I agree, but I don’t have anyone I can trust. I’ve been out of this game a long time and I’m not in touch with my old contacts.” He jerked his head toward Brock.

Brock shifted on his stool. His eyes stayed glued to the counter, his mouth tense.

“We already have someone.” Serena’s hard, determined tone pulled Milo’s attention from Brock.

“Who?”

She flattened her palm against the stack of papers. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, and for a flicker of a beat, Milo regretted the desperate sex he’d pounded into her that night. Then her mewls of ecstasy replayed in his head and he shook off the remorse. No way in hell he’d take back driving into her slick heat.

“Peyton Risk.”

Brock chortled. “No offense to Priss, but I was thinking more along the lines of big, burly men.”

Milo watched the hue of Serena’s cheekbones darken. Ah, hell. These two were too emotionally involved. It was only a matter of time before they took off the gloves.

Serena’s finely arched eyebrow hiked up. “I don’t think you remember Peyton’s skills. She’s a better shooter than all of us put together.”

Milo moved closer. “How do you know that? I don’t remember Peyton killing anyone.”

“Her grandpa owned a hunting lodge, and she’s been shooting since she was old enough to hold a gun. Even her foster parents were hunters.”

Brock cocked his head skeptically. “Great, sign her up. But I know a guy?—”

“We don’t have time to gather a team. We’ll be lucky if we can get ahold of Peyton in time and brief her.”

“It’s not good enough.”

“You guys,” Milo said, a warning in his tone. They all needed a break. “Brock, I think you need to collect your thoughts. If you want to go home for a few hours, do that. Or rest. There’s a pullout couch in the basement.”

The hard planes of Brock’s face softened, and he nodded. “I need to let out my dog and catch some sleep. I’ll be back later. Call me if anything happens.” He swiped his keys and phone from the counter and left the house.