Page 102 of Nothing to Fear

Bracing for every dreadful possibility, he did a hasty visual sweep of the road, burning precious seconds. There were pearls scattered in a path that led to the doors of the glitzy resort.

He charged across the street, ignoring the blaring horn from a braking car, and stormed inside the resort. People meandered throughout the lobby, strolling in three different directions.

More pearls rolled on the polished floor.

Wherever Willow was, she was in dire trouble, and it was tearing him apart. His muscles tightened to a throb, feet carrying him on instinct.

The path straight ahead led to elevators, most likely to hotel rooms. To the right, a bubbling fountain and breakfast rush at eateries. To the left, a row of boutique shops.

Sunglasses lay on the floor. Dark tint, feline flair, like the ones he’d purchased this morning. He bolted down the walkway, dodging murmuring men and women, his head on a one-eighty swivel. His blood was a roaring current of rage, but he grappled to hold tight to his sanity.

To save Willow, his professional cylinders needed to fire hot.

Gunfire shattered a storefront window ahead of him. A chorus of screams broke out from the crowd. He blasted toward the fray.

Broken glass crunched beneath his feet as he raised the bank security guard’s gun.

“Flush the bitch out,” someone said in Gideon’s earpiece. “Keep cool. No sloppy bullets in her. Needs to look like an accident or suicide.”

Gideon paused at the edge of the adjacent storefront and peeked inside.

Three mercs were in the back of the store. Looking over the top of clothing racks, he watched one kick and punch the side of a dressing room wall from within an adjacent stall. Another crept around, flanking in. Willow must be cornered.

He strained to keep his fury in check and reached for the icy calm he was accustomed to.

“Your sister is counting on you to save her life, Willow.” The big one spoke in a deep baritone, not staying in sight. “I could send someone to snatch those twins, bring them to mommy. Save your nieces. Come out.”

They were holding her sister hostage? Threatening children? Bastards were good at finding the right bait. He hoped Willow wouldn’t fall for it.

Crouching, he slipped inside the store. He silenced a groan at the sharp sound of glass breaking under his feet. Bye-bye advantage of surprise.

The pounding sounds stopped.

“Not cops. Omega, think it’s Stone?” another asked over the comms.

“Count on it,” the same baritone said. The one they called Omega. “Pincer.”

A maneuver to trap him. Maybe hit his flank, close in like a claw. Whichever direction the attack came from, he needed to be ready on the opposite front as well.

He crouched and wove in between the displays and racks. Maintaining cover, he duck-walked to stay low. A dark flash of clothing darted by on his right.

Halting, he listened for movement. A set of muffled footsteps shifted across the carpet, coming in an arc to cut him off. He doubled back to a clothing display and regained his bearings.

One shuffled. Quick. Quiet. Toward his eleven o’clock.

Gideon cut left past a row of mannequins. Coming up at a forty-five-degree angle behind a merc—the only one making sound—he leaned against a solid particleboard display. It limited his field of view but provided better cover.

Something heavy landed atop the display table. A shadow loomed above him. Gideon rolled out of the way as bullets popped into the patch of real estate he’d just occupied.

Drawing up on a knee, he pumped two bullets dead center in the man’s chest, one in the head.

A mass of muscle charged, tackling Gideon to the floor, and the gun slipped from his grip. He let the momentum carry him, flowing into the fall and driving his knees into the merc’s torso, flipping him overhead.

Before the merc with a Magnum PI mustache fully recovered, Gideon spun and sprang upright, kicking the weapon out of his hands. Gideon drew the second bank guard’s gun from his back, readying to shoot Mustachio, but the stealthy bruiser from Ken’s—the one called Omega—landed a blow to his forearm, throwing off his aim.

Two bullets nailed a mannequin. Gideon whirled to redirect fire, but Omega expected it and dodged, knocking the weapon loose.

Pain flared in Gideon, but no bones were broken. He disconnected from it and pushed on.