"You defending him now?" Doug's jaw clenched, veins standing out in his neck.
"I'm stating facts," Charlie said coldly.
"You're a bloody idiot, mate," I said, forcing my voice to stay level, though my fist was clenched. Every muscle in my body screamed to punch the bastard in the throat.
Doug's hands trembled as he swung the rifle off his shoulder. The barrel came up, wavering between me and Charlie. His pupils were blown wide, his breathing ragged and shallow. "We all found that jewelry. We share them. Equal split."
My heart hammered, but I kept my voice flat. "We're not sharing a damn thing."
Doug's finger moved to the trigger. The gleam in his eyes turned desperate. "Then I'm taking them."
"Doug? What the hell!" Charlie's breath caught in her throat.
"Put the gun down," I said calmly, the way I'd talk to a spooked horse.
In the corner of my eye, Charlie stiffened. Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
"Don't do it, Doug." I adjusted my stance, ready to tackle the stupid bastard.
There was no reasoning with him anymore. Whatever grip he'd had on sanity, he'd lost it.
The rifle steadied in his hands.
"Doug, please." Charlie's voice shook, but she didn't move.
"Everyone, calm down." I raised one hand slowly, keeping the other closed around the jewel pouch. "Nobody needs to get hurt here."
"Give me the goddammed jewels," Doug said, voice cracking. "Now."
I met Charlie's eyes. She was terrified. Her chest rose and fell too fast; her hands shook despite her clenched fists. Yet she didn't back down.
"Doug," I said carefully. "Think about what you're doing."
"I have thought about it." His voice pitched higher. "I need those jewels."
"What? Why?" Charlie asked, her voice high-pitched.
Doug's gaze flickered between us. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I owe people. Bad people. And if I don't pay them back—" His voice broke. "My daughter and I are dead."
The desperation in his voice was real, but so was the rifle pointed at my chest.
"We can figure this out," I said. "Just put the gun down."
Doug shook his head. "No. Give me the jewels, or I'll?—"
"You'll what?" I took a step forward. "Shoot us both?"
"Mitch, don't," Charlie whispered.
"He's not going to shoot anyone," I said, not breaking eye contact with Doug. "Are you, mate?"
Doug's hands trembled harder. The rifle barrel dipped, then jerked back up.
"You're not a killer," I continued, voice low and steady. "You're scared. I get it. But this isn't the way."
Doubt flickered across Doug's face. Then his jaw set. "I don't have a choice."
"There's always a choice."