The Ultimate Betrayal - Kat Martin Page 0,34

for about a mile. A shot of fear hit her when their headlights went off, Bran slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel, and the SUV did a one-eighty so it now faced the opposite direction.

“Get ready,” he said, his gaze riveted on the oncoming vehicle racing toward them. Every cell in her body burned with nerves as they waited, the SUV idling like a predator, the truck getting closer, thundering toward them, but in the deep, powdery dirt not able to travel as fast as it had on the highway.

Suddenly the SUV’s lights went on, the high beams hitting the pickup windshield dead center as Bran gunned the engine and the Expedition leaped forward. The pickup slammed on its brakes and veered off the road to avoid a collision at the same time Bran hit the brakes, and the SUV skidded to a halt just a few feet away.

“Get down!” Bran shouted, as his door flew open and he leaped out into the darkness. She expected the overhead light to go on, but it didn’t. She should have known he would have thought of that.

She crept up in the seat enough to watch events unfolding, illuminated by the headlights. Bran had already reached the passenger side of the truck and jerked open the door. The man inside flew out like a ball on the end of an elastic band, his gun soaring into the air, his body landing in an unmoving heap on the ground beneath the open door. Gunfire erupted, the driver shooting wildly, but his target had already disappeared into the darkness.

Jessie recognized the huge bearded bald man running toward her, his pistol pointed directly at the window where she sat. She clamped down on a jolt of fear, ducked below the seat, reached up and locked the door, though it wouldn’t do much good against a bullet.

Crouching in the footwell, her insides trembling, she eased up enough to see Bran run up behind the bald man, grab him by the back of the neck, and spin him around. A brief scuffle ensued, the sound of fists connecting and the bald man’s heavy grunts of pain. The next minute the man was sprawled on the ground, moaning.

Jessie opened the door and got out as Bran pulled a zip tie from the pocket of his bomber jacket. He bound the man’s wrists behind his back, used another tie to bind his ankles. Then Bran walked back to the pickup to secure the man who lay unconscious on the passenger side of the truck. Jessie caught a flash of light as he used his phone to snap the guy’s picture.

A few feet away, the bald man began squirming and shouting, trying to get free, his gaze furious in a face filled with hostility. “You’re gonna pay for this, you bitch!” A string of swear words followed, and fury burned through her.

“You think so?” Pulling the cashmere scarf from around her neck, she wound it around the bald man’s head several times, till his face was completely covered, his vulgar tirade reduced to a torrent of mumbled words.

Bran walked up grinning. “Nice work.”

Her gaze went from the bound man thrashing around on the ground, back to Bran. “Same goes.”

His smile faded as he knelt and rolled the man onto his back. “We need answers—and you’re going to give them to us.”

“Muff you!”

Bran just smiled. “You’ve got two choices. You can tell us who hired you, or I can shoot you and bury you right here. I really don’t care which you choose. If I kill you, your friend over there is going to realize he’s next and decide it’d be a good idea to cooperate. Either way, I’ll find out what I need to know.”

Bran pulled his Glock from the holster on his belt and pressed it against the side of the bald man’s head. “What’s it going to be?”

The guy stared up at him for several long seconds, pondering his fate. Reading the deadly threat in Bran’s eyes, he started nodding. “O-hay, o-hay.”

“I think you mean okay,” Bran said. His gaze went to Jessie. “It’s a pretty scarf. You can always wash it.”

She nodded. Her mouth was dry. She wasn’t sure if Bran would have pulled the trigger or not. It was a question she would never ask. She wasn’t sure she could handle the answer. Unwinding the strip of pale blue cashmere, she backed away.

Bran holstered his weapon, grabbed the bald man by the front of his

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