Chase?
Scottie looked past the terrifying image before her to find Chase standing behind Tommy. A gun was in his hand; its barrel pressed squarely against the back of Tommy’s head. The look on his face was chilling, the glare he was giving the bastard still holding her against her will positively lethal.
I’ve never seen this side of him before.
The Chase she knew was sweet. Funny. Laid-back. But this version of the man who’d once been crowned prom king of their high school…
He looked like he was out for blood.
“Swear to Christ, if I have to tell you one more time to let her go…”
Tommy released his hold and put his hands out to the side.
“Good call. Now you’re going to stand there until I tell you to move, understand?” When a scowling Tommy remained silent, Chase shoved the gun harder against the other man’s head as he yelled, “Do. You. Understand?”
“Yeah, I fucking understand!” Tommy shouted back.
Sliding his rage-filled gaze in Scottie’s direction, Chase’s expression softened slightly as he asked, “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head, her movements jerky from adrenaline and fear. “N-no.”
Her head was pounding, and she probably had a decent knot growing somewhere on the back of her head, but considering how badly the situation could have ended, Scottie considered herself to be lucky as hell.
“Call nine-one-one,” Chase ordered her briskly.
She immediately began digging in her purse for her phone. At the same time, the door to the kitchen flew open, and Bruce—the nighttime guard—came rushing out.
“Scottie?” The fifty-something Army veteran spotted her. “What’s going on…” He stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of Chase. Or rather, Chase’s gun. “What the fuck?”
“He’s okay!” Scottie abandoned her search to wave him away from going after Chase. “He works for Eagle’s Nest.” She pointed to Tommy. “H-he’s the one who attacked me.”
Bruce’s brown eyes widened slightly before narrowing an angry glare in Tommy’s direction. The second his gaze landed on the abusive jerk, he reached for the pair of shiny silver cuffs always dangling from his hip.
Knowing Bruce and Chase could keep Tommy under control, Scottie resumed her efforts to find her phone. Reaching back into her purse, she finally found the right pocket housing the device.
She pulled it free, and as directed, she quickly dialed nine-one-one.
“Guess you didn’t learn your lesson the last time you were here, did you, Gallo?” Bruce yanked the jerk’s hands behind his back before securing him like a pro.
It was the first time since Tommy appeared that Scottie felt like she could truly breathe.
Thank you, God!
While she spoke to the emergency operator, relaying the nature of the emergency and the shelter’s address, Chase remained near Bruce to presumably give the other man backup.
Patting Tommy down like a pro, Bruce began searching Tommy for any possible weapons. At first, Scottie assumed he had none, but then?—
“Gun,” Bruce unceremoniously announced.
Her heart dropped when she saw him pull a black pistol free from the waistband of Tommy’s jeans.
No wonder he’d left half of his shirt untucked. He was using the loose flannel to conceal a freaking gun!
Scottie’s spine stiffened, every muscle in her body tightening with a renewed sense of fear. Her mind soon became filled with a barrage of what-ifs.
What if he’d pulled that gun? What if he’d shot her? What if he’d seen Chase sooner and somehow managed to shoot him instead?
Flashbacks from the last time a man pulled a gun on her came rushing to the surface. Suddenly, Scottie wanted to get away from there. To be as far away from the crazed abuser as was humanly possible.