The one-story structure came into view moments later. Years of neglect had made the place look ready to be torn down, with its faded paint, evident cracks in the shutters, and several winters’ worth of foliage on the deck.
I made a signal for the three of us to split up. Thorn and Max took the left and right respectively while I approached head-on.
I approached the cabin silently, and in two long strides that avoided any creaks in the wood, crossed the deck, pressing against the wall next to the front window. A quick glance inside had my heart hammering.
Layla.
She was sitting on the couch, her hands and feet bound as Marty rushed around packing a duffle.
We’d arrived in time. Thank Christ.
“Don’t even think about it.” He pointed a finger at Layla before leaving the room, likely headed for one of the bedrooms.
I stepped in full view of the window, wanting her to see me. As soon as she spotted me, her eyes popped wide with surprise before filling with tears. Despite looking exhausted, she didn’t seem to have been harmed.
I pressed a finger to my lips, and she nodded readily.
Bound as she was, she couldn’t come to me; I’d need to go to her. I moved around the side of the house, looking for an access point that would be more covert than the front door, and found an open window on the side. I hoisted myself up and dropped soundlessly into a small den.
Marty was back in the living room where Layla was, pacing in agitation. “No fucking money has been transferred,” he snarled. “Guess your man doesn’t care as much about you as he thought. Or maybe,” he leaned menacingly in her face, “he’s not taking me seriously. Maybe it’s time you lost a digit or two.”
And then I was on him, coming up from behind, my hand wrapping around his mouth, my gun pressed to his temple. “Think again, asshole,” I warned.
“Fuck.” He grunted, trying to fight against me just as Thorn appeared, having likely entered from somewhere in the back of the house.
“Thorn!” I hollered a warning when suddenly a woman appeared behind him, a gun raised in her hand.
He whirled just as she got a shot off, sending him reeling backwards. Responding gunfire cracked the air, hitting her square in the shoulder of her shooting hand as Max stepped into the room, his gun smoking.
She collapsed, groaning as her weapon clattered to the ground.
Thorn crouched down and picked it up, clutching his arm where he’d been shot.
“You good?” I demanded.
He nodded, gritting his teeth as blood seeped through his fingers. “She must’ve been in the bathroom, ’cause the rest of the house was clear. That was the only room I couldn’t get line of sight to.”
I pressed my gun firmly into Marty’s temple. “Any other surprises?” I growled.
“There’s no one else here.” His voice was low, full of defeat.
I turned eyes to Layla, who had shrunk back into the couch cushions as far as she could, her eyes wide with terror. “It’s okay, baby,” I assured her, wanting more than anything to wrap my arms around her.
Soon.
Chapter 28
LAYLA
My ears were ringing from gunfire, my heart hammering in terror as I watched Cash shove Marty in front of him, his gun aimed at his chest.
He nodded toward Max, the two sharing a silent conversation I didn’t understand before he returned his full attention to Marty. “You killed Palmer?” he demanded.
“Yep,” Marty replied proudly, his hands raised defensively.
“For her?” Cash nodded toward Teresa, who was sitting with her back against the wall, blood seeping from her shoulder. “Or to keep all the blackmail money to yourself?”
“Both,” Marty sneered. “Palmer was worthless. It may have been his idea to blackmail the Riders but it was mine to expand things here in Hawthorne,” he boasted. “Teresa was tired of his shit. I figured I’d help her out and dispose of him.”