Chapter 26
Before Marcus could pull the trigger, Ethan charged through the deep snow like a linebacker. He didn't think about the gun, the money, or his own survival. There was only the distance between him and the man threatening his family.
He tackled Marcus into the snowbank just as the revolver discharged. The gunshot was deafening, the bullet whining off into the night sky.
The two men wrestled violently in the freezing dark. Marcus was heavier, trained by prison yards, and he slammed a brutal fist into Ethan’s ribs. Ethan gasped, the wind knocked out of him, but he refused to let go of Marcus’s gun wrist.
“You’re... dead... cousin!” Marcus growled, trying to turn the barrel toward Ethan’s chest.
From the SUV, Lauren used her feet to violently kick the driver’s seat forward, slamming it against Marcus’s arm. The distraction was enough. Ethan twisted Marcus’s wrist until the bone popped, and the revolver fell into the deep snow.
Richard came running out of the darkness, using the butt of his rifle to strike Marcus squarely across the jaw. The criminal went limp, collapsing unconscious into the white drift.
Ethan scrambled up, throwing open the backdoor of the SUV. He ripped the duct tape off Lauren’s mouth and pulled her into a fierce, trembling hug.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he whispered fiercely, his tears warm against her cold skin.
“Ethan... Noah... he’s okay, he’s okay,” Lauren sobbed, reaching back to unbuckle their terrified son.
Ethan scooped Noah into his arms, burying his face in his son’s jacket. They were alive. They were safe.
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But as Richard bent down to tie Marcus’s hands with a tow strap, Marcus’s phone—sitting on the dashboard of the SUV—lit up with a FaceTime call.
The caller ID read: The Queen.
