“You bet, little lady. When I’m done with you, you’re going to wish you never found us.”
“Okay,” I sighed. “That right there is your first mistake.”
He charged after me with a knife in his hand. I lunged out of the way, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it hard until I heard the cracking of his bones. He screamed, dropped to his knees, and I clocked him in the side of his head with my boot, sending him on his back. Glancing at my watch, I was running out of time.
“Damn it.”
I walked over to the one man who was barely conscious and groaning. Kneeling down, I grabbed his shirt while my arm jammed into his broken ribs.
“Where is she?”
The man shook his head.
“I don’t?—”
I lifted him up by his shirt just enough to painfully drop him back on the ground. He screamed.
“Wrong answer. You’ve got five seconds to decide if today ends with you walking away or being carried out in a body bag.”
“Warehouse. Pier 17, second-floor office,” he coughed out.
“Good choice.” I pulled my gun and clocked him in the side of the head.
Pulling out my phone, I saw I had two voice messages from Parker. I’d listen to them after I called Simon.
“Paige, what’s up?”
“I need you to send your guys to,” I rattled off, where I was. “The hostage is being kept in a warehouse. Pier 17. Second-flooroffice. I have to get home to my son’s birthday party. Parker is already blowing up my phone.”
“Go, we got this. Thanks, Paige.”
“You’re welcome.”
Parker
I was worried. I shouldn’t have been, but it wasn’t like Paige to cut it this close. The front door opened, and relief washed over me.
“There you—” I stopped, noticing the blood splatter all over her shirt.
“I have thirty minutes to shower and change before everyone gets here. If you want to talk, you’ll have to do it while I’m in the shower. Where’s Gabriel?”
“Napping. He’s preparing for his big day,” I said, following her up the stairs.
Before heading to the bathroom to shower, she stopped by the nursery and stared at our son while he slept.
“I’m here, little man.” She softly rubbed his back.
I started the shower for her while she undressed.
“You know, Paige. I’m a little angry right now.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I love you.” She stepped into the shower.
“It’s our son’s birthday. We’re having a party with fifty guests, and you got home thirty minutes before the party starts with blood all over your shirt.”
She opened the shower door. “Come here.”
“Why?” My brows furrowed.