image of Hallie with her sweet smile and her belief in him landed hard in his chest. Somehow, he was her hero. Or he had been. He was so far from a hero it wasn’t funny, but she’d looked at him like that. His brothers, his woman, his family.
“Trent?” Austin asked.
Trent straightened his shoulders and gripped his weapon. There was only one solution. “I am plan B. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Hallie sat with her wrists tied to the chair arms with rough rope that cut into her skin. A fire crackled in the small woodstove, so different from the cheery fire she’d sat in front of every night with Trent. The Montgomery boys sat in chairs across from her, arguing quietly about what to do with her.
Charles took a knife out of a backpack on the table. “There’s only one way to know if she’s telling the truth.”
Her eyes widened, and she couldn’t look away from the firelight glinting off the sharp blade. “Um, I’m telling the truth. Is the law after you? No. Is there any hint of the police being involved? No. Brad?” She tore her gaze away to look at the man she’d once considered charming. “You know I haven’t turned you in. I thought you liked me.”
“I did. I do,” Brad said, his voice almost a whine. Even for a kidnapping, he wore a blue button-down shirt with pressed jeans and brown loafers.
So different from Trent’s torn jeans and tough cowboy boots. She missed Trent. She wanted him right then. She might not know what he was involved in, but he’d protect her. She just knew it. For now, she had to figure her own way out of this disaster, so she stared at Brad.
“If you like me, how can you let your brother threaten me with a knife?” She silently implored him to act like a man and protect her from his sociopathic brother, who was staring at her with way too much interest while he caressed the handle of the dangerous-looking knife.
Brad looked at his brother and sighed.
It was obvious who was in charge. She shifted her focus to Charles while gingerly testing the ropes around her wrists. They were tight and painful. Her feet were loose, so she could kick whoever came at her. But there were two of them and one of her, and they had knives and a gun. Why hadn’t she taken one of Trent’s many weapons? She shivered.
Charles smiled. He had the same jawline and eye color as Brad, but his face was wider and the shape of his eyes meaner. “You know we can’t let her live. Even if she hasn’t turned us in, she knows too much, and she’ll always be a threat.”
Her stomach revolted and she coughed. “Have you ever killed anybody, Charles?” Maybe she could talk him out of it.
“No,” Charles said. “I’ve hit a few people in my time, but I’ve never had reason to kill anybody. Until now.” He looked as if he could do it—as if he wanted to kill her.
Brad made a small sound of distress.
She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths before reopening them to find the brothers staring at her. “I thought Brad said that the evidence incriminated me, too. So I can’t talk to anybody about it.” They didn’t know about Trent and his friends, and who knew, maybe Trent hadn’t gone to take care of her problem. He could be anywhere in the world right now.
“Actually,” Brad whispered, “we’ve arranged it so it’s all your fault.”
“Which means she has to die so she can’t raise any doubt.” Charles stood and walked toward her, the knife in his hand.
She opened her mouth to scream just as the front door burst open.
Men poured in, and she recognized Trent right before he threw a knife across the room, embedding it in Charles’s shoulder. Charles screamed and dropped his knife, grabbing at the handle protruding from his flesh. Blood welled around his fingers.
Zeke had Brad in a headlock within a second, and his brother shoved Charles into his vacated chair.
Trent came at her, his face a hard mask. He looked her over, his gaze intense, his body one long line of pure fury.
She cringed, unable to help herself.
He dropped to his haunches, whipped another knife out of his boot, and cut through the ropes. “How badly are you hurt?” His voice didn’t even sound like him. Harsh, guttural, deadly.