deserve to see her man. She’d turn around and realize her hostages were now well-guarded.
The doors flung open, crying, “Billy—”
Hagan blocked Halle. “Surprise.”
Her head snapped back, and she gasped. Her face showed one emotion after another like falling dominoes. Shock. Distress. Disappointment. Anguish. Exhaustion. Fresh tears spilled. She didn’t raise a weapon. “Will you let me see him?”
Her anguish stabbed Hagan in the back, and a million pinholes of pain radiated from his heart. His jaw clenched. “You helped him kill my brother.”
Despair twisted her features. Hagan didn’t see a single slice of regret for Dylan, for what she’d destroyed, only what she couldn’t have. Her chin quivered. “Please…”
“You’re not even sorry,” he demanded.
Misery and martyrdom clouded her face, and she whispered, “I don’t know.”
The truth pummeled Hagan. He wanted to shove Halle from the ambulance and deprive her of the last moments with someone she loved. “You don’t deserve mercy.”
Like the truth had sentenced her to an understanding of her cruelty, she staggered back. Hagan hoped she hurt. He prayed for her misery. His chin lifted high, and he drank in a deep breath, but it soured in his gut. Life never made sense. Humanity wasn’t always good. But he was and wouldn’t devalue his own pain by denying hers.
Hagan had lived through pain too similar to Halle’s. Sick to his stomach, he extended his hand.
Disbelief tugged her gaze to his. “Why?”
“Because…” He stepped from the ambulance and methodically disarmed her without a fight. “People I love wouldn’t have suffered if someone had shown you there’s another way.” Hagan helped her into the ambulance and zip-tied her hands next to Morris’s. He locked them together and turned toward the cabin. The sour taste in his mouth was gone. Hagan walked away, at peace.
***
The pitch-black sky had softened to a gray-purple, and Amanda had no idea what was going on. She’d only slept in spurts, most recently waking to find Halle gone, replaced by two men in tactical gear who paused long enough to assure that she and Mom were still alive. No matter how many times or how loudly Amanda asked, they wouldn’t untie their wrists or share who they were.
Mom yawned. “I could use some coffee.”
Amanda rested her forehead on the back of her bound hands and worried that Mom had brain damage from whatever Halle had gassed them with. “I wouldn’t mind a knife and a gun.”
The men appeared again, this time with an armload of security equipment that they dumped on the blue-checkered tablecloth table.
Amanda scowled as they walked by again. “If you’re going to fleece the place, can you find a minute to cut us loose?”
One guy laughed. The other pushed him to get back to work. She eyed the equipment that looked as if it had been removed from their office. Halle had amassed quite the stockpile, and before Amanda could wonder, the men returned with their hands full of weapons. She kicked and twisted to get loose. “A little help?”
No answer.
Of course. Amanda tried to stomp her feet but only succeeded in pulling her ankle binding tighter. She wouldn’t make the same mistake as she had last night when attempting to tear the hook out of the wall. That rustic piece of metal was anchored to the cabin with voodoo magic. “Did you arrest Halle?”
They ignored her and worked through the pile, dismantling and organizing like they were the booby-trap-evading-evidence fairies that had come to childproof a crime scene.
“Try to relax,” Mom suggested.
Amanda stared at the Zen-shade of purple in the sky and wanted to scream. “How are you this calm?”
“I’m not, sweet pea.” Mom sighed. “My heart hurts for Stephen, Brooks, and Juan. I’m tired, hungry, and in pain.”
Guilt threaded into Amanda’s chest. She hadn’t asked Mom about her detail. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too, and I’m angry.” Her mom leaned against Amanda. “It’s okay to be more than one thing at a time.”
The two men walked out again. Not even a nod as they passed. This time, Amanda didn’t yell for their attention. “This was everything that I tried to avoid.”
Mom nodded. “I know. But you can’t control the world.”
“I know.”
“I’m not sure that you do.” Mom wriggled against the couch. “You have to try.”
“Why would I do that?” Amanda asked, then braced for a science pun when Mom grinned.
“You’ll figure it out.”
There were too many other things to figure out. “Right. I’ll get on it—” The sound of a truck reversing wailed from outside the cabin. “What is that?”
The two of them