Ninety-Three

For a moment, neither of them moved.

“He had a gun,” Leo said, his words tumbling out faster and faster, chased by fear and panic. “Mr. Reyes let me go and she told me to run so I—” He stopped abruptly, eyes wide and terrified. “I left her.”

She. Sabrina. Leo was talking about Sabrina.

He could hear boots pounding down the stairs—all attempts at stealth thrown out the window. Seconds later, Strickland and Church appeared with Christina in tow.

She was older, but he’d recognize her anywhere. Seeing her caused his heart to stutter in his chest, but he held it together, looking to Strickland for help. “Take Leo,” he said as he moved, down the stairs. In the direction of the shots.

Strickland scooped Leo into his arms and followed. “We’ve got to help her, she’s probably been shot. Church can—”

“No. We stick to the plan,” Michael said, making the landing, running down the last set of stairs. “He won’t kill her. Not until I’m there to see it.”

“Are you trying to reassure me? Because really, you suck at it,” Strickland said, Leo straddling his hip, free hand wrapped around the .40 he’d given him in the laundry room. “I’ll go with you as backup—”

“We stick to the plan,” Michael said, hitting the first floor at a dead run. “You and Church take them and head for the boats!” He moved from room to room, leading them toward the veranda closest to the seawall.

He spoke into his comm. “Ben, Church and Strickland have secured the Maddox boy and are headed your way—” He put his boot through one of the French door’s window panels, splintering wood and shattering glass and opening a hole big enough for them to crawl through.

“Got it,” Ben said, his voice tight with worry. “We’ll be waiting.”

He turned to Church. “Keys are in a lockbox in the boathouse. Let me know when you’re away. ” He looked at Christina and tried to smile. “I’ll be right back … I promise.”