Baz shouted something; a shot rang out. Brantley kept his cool, sighting with his gun as he moved through the kitchen, looking for the door leading to the basement. He located it, noticed it was closed up tight.
“Get on the ground!” Baz shouted.
Another shot rang out.
Brantley was about to come around the corner to assist when he heard the rack of a shotgun. Turning toward the mouth of the hallway, he came face-to-face with…
Son of a bitch.
***
When the gunshots rang out, Reese took off at a run for the door. No denying his heart was in his throat. The thought of Brantley having taken a bullet was nearly more than he could bear. Yet his feet continued to move, carrying him the distance, up the stairs, into the house.
He was just in time to hear the distinctive sound of a shotgun being cocked, to see Brantley turn, his attention directed down a narrow hallway.
Reese couldn’t see who was wielding the weapon, but based on Brantley’s expression, it was someone he hadn’t expected to see.
“Lauren?” Brantley said softly. “It’s okay. We’re not here to hurt you.”
Lauren? As in Lauren Tyler?
No fucking way.
In the other room, he heard Baz shouting for someone to get on the ground, assumed it was Dugan. Good news was, there were no more shots being fired. Bad news, Brantley was being held at gunpoint by a woman who’d been missing for nearly a decade.
Reese had heard about instances like this. Whoever that girl in there was, it wasn’t the same Lauren Tyler who’d gone missing all those years ago. More than likely, she’d been brainwashed and she was going to defend the man she believed was her savior because Dugan was all she had known.
Brantley backed up a couple of steps, coming out of the mouth of the hallway.
“Lauren, my name’s Brantley. Brantley Walker. I’ve been lookin’ for you.”
Reese saw him make an attempt at a smile.
“Your parents are lookin’ for you,” he continued. “A lot of people are.”
There was no response.
“I’m here to get Corinne,” Brantley explained. “You remember your friend, Corinne? Cori? That’s what you called her. She was your best friend in high school.”
Reese couldn’t go through the house without giving himself away, so he backed out through the door that was now hanging by hinges. He took off at a run, making his way around to the front door. Stepping inside, he saw Baz kneeling on Dugan’s back, his gun pressed to the back of the man’s head.
Baz looked up, motioned for the doorway on Reese’s right.
Keeping as quiet as he could, he worked his way to the opposite end of the hallway from Brantley, peeked around the corner.
There was Lauren Tyler, a shotgun aimed at Brantley. She looked as though she knew how to handle the gun, which didn’t bode well for any of them.
“Lauren, I’d just like to talk,” Brantley repeated calmly.
“My name’s not Lauren,” she bit out. “It’s Emily Dugan.”
“Okay, Emily,” Brantley said easily. “Like I said, we’re not here to hurt you. In fact, if it’s all the same to you, I just need to check on Corinne. Can you let me do that?”
“No. She belongs to Bill now.”
“Who’s Bill?” Brantley asked, clearly attempting to keep her talking.
“My husband,” she said sternly. “The man I love. I belong to him. Always will.”
Fucking bastard. Nine years of warping and twisting her mind.
“I want to see him,” she demanded. “I want to see my husband.”
“Okay.” Brantley slid his gun into his holster, then lifted his hands up. “We can arrange that.”
“Now.”
Reese remained where he was, keeping his gun trained on Lauren’s back. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was shoot the woman, but he would do what was necessary to keep Brantley safe. It was hard enough knowing she could blow a hole in him at any moment, but he’d spent years training for this. After all, SEALs weren’t the only spec ops teams out there.
He only prayed it didn’t come down to that.
“Baz. Bring Bill in here,” Brantley called out.
There was some shifting, followed by a couple of grunts, then footsteps. Bill appeared at the end of the hall near Brantley, his hands cuffed behind his back.
“Tell her to put down the gun,” Brantley instructed.
“I can’t do that.”
“If you want to see her walk out of here on her own, you’ll tell her to put down the gun.”
Bill didn’t respond.
“You love her, don’t you, Bill?” Brantley continued. “That’s why she’s here. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have kept her, right? I can’t imagine you’d enjoy seeing her get hurt.”
Dugan peered over at Brantley.
“Tell her to put down the gun,” Brantley ordered. “Or my partner’s gonna have to shoot her.”
Reese knew it was only talk. Brantley would not force him to shoot Lauren. Not unless she gave him reason to.
