long enough to see if the men were following, then caught up with her a few paces later.
“They were paying their tab, getting ready to leave. Head for the car.” They walked hurriedly in that direction, Bran clicked the door locks, and they climbed inside. His hand went automatically to the Glock clipped to his belt beneath his shirt, then he started the engine.
They drove out of the lot, following the road around the main building to the structure where they were staying. Hurriedly, they climbed the wooden stairs to the outdoor corridor that led to the rooms.
Bran stopped her at the door to the suite. “Wait here.” He pulled his pistol and went inside, came out a few seconds later, his jacket off, his gun reholstered.
“All clear. Go in and lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone but me. I’ll be right back.”
Jessie walked into the room and Bran closed the door. She counted to ten, then turned the knob and cracked the door enough to see what was going on in the corridor. Bran had almost reached the staircase. He took a quick look over the railing, then flattened himself behind one of the wooden pillars supporting the roof.
Jessie could hear the sound of quiet footfalls coming up to the second floor, and her pulse slammed into gear. She glanced around the suite in search of a weapon, wished she had the revolver she kept for self-defense in her apartment. She found a black, long-handled LED flashlight in Bran’s gear bag and raced back to the door.
Through the crack, she saw two men top the stairs, one around six feet, with what looked like a tattoo on the side of his neck and dark brown hair pulled back in a man bun. The other guy was way taller, a mountain of a man, thick-shouldered and muscular, with a bald head and straggly blond beard. Each held a semiautomatic pistol.
Jessie’s heart raced as Bran stepped out from behind the pillar, grabbed the guy with the tattoo by the arm and twisted, wrenching the gun out of his hand, sending it flying. Bran spun and shot his leg out in a sideways kick that smashed against the bald man’s wrist, knocking his pistol into the air. The gun flew over the railing of the balcony, and the fight was on.
Gripping the flashlight, Jessie ran toward the men as Bran threw a series of punches that sent the tattooed guy careening backward, crashing to the floor of the corridor. Bran whirled to face the bald man, ducking a sharp, heavy blow and throwing a powerful punch that buried fist-deep in the man’s stomach, doubling him over.
The tattooed man shoved to his feet and charged, and Jessie swung the heavy LED flashlight, hitting him in the head and sending him staggering into the wall. His man bun came loose, and his hair fell down to his shoulders. Swearing foully, he pushed to his feet and rushed her, stopped before he reached her when he saw the fight was nearly over and Bran was winning.
With another foul curse, he spun and ran in the opposite direction, toward a set of stairs at the far end of the hall.
Bran was still throwing punches when one of the doors along the corridor flew open and a slender woman with a little girl in a pink princess costume and an adorable little boy in a plush, black-and-yellow leopard outfit walked out into the hall.
Everything happened at once. A knife appeared in the bald, bearded man’s hand. His arm shot toward the little boy and wrapped around his neck, yanking him off his feet.
“Teddy!” his mother screamed as the bald man held the squirming child against his thick chest, the blade of his knife pressed against the little boy’s throat.
“Nobody move! Do what I say and the boy won’t get hurt!”
So far Bran hadn’t pulled his weapon. Jessie thought he didn’t want to escalate the situation. Now his hand hovered over the pistol grip.
“The boy is coming with me to the parking lot,” the bald man said. In the lot below, a car engine roared to life. “When I get there, I’ll let him go. Anybody tries to interfere, I slit the kid’s throat.” He looked hard at Bran. “You understand?”
Bran inhaled deeply, then slowly released the breath he’d taken and appeared to relax, but Jessie recognized the tension in the muscles across his shoulders and the back of his neck.
“No one will interfere,” Bran said