CHAPTER NINE
The bottle didn’t break as it connected with the gunman’s head, but the blow knocked him down. Lexi shoved him aside and darted into Parker’s arms, knocking the bucket of ice to the ground. Cubes scattered all over the carpet. She grabbed at him and tried to pull him down the hallway. “Parker, run!”
The gunman might be down, but he wasn’t out.
Her husband’s reflexes kicked in, and he leapt out of the way just before two bullets splintered across the hallway behind him.
They fled down the hall, and Lexi screamed when a light fixture near her shattered. There was a tremendous crash and it sounded like the gunman had fallen into a wall. Had he slipped on the ice, trying to chase after them?
Parker’s hold on her wrist was so ferocious, it hurt, but she did her best to keep up with him as they tore past rooms. He slapped a hand on the fire alarm, breaking the glass and pulling the lever down without breaking stride.
The fire alarm was deafening. A constant high-pitched wail. It rattled her brain, and hurt her eyes as the corners of the hallway flashed a blinding, white light. He jerked her so hard abruptly to the left, she worried he’d pulled her arm out of the socket, but she followed him stumbling through the door into the stairwell.
Only they didn’t go down, he was dragging her up. Where the hell were they going?
It got louder as people began to fill in and descend the stairs. Parker had his phone up to his mouth, yelling something in it that sounded like, “Get to the roof!” Hotel guests looked at them like they were crazy as they climbed the stairs, but she kept moving. Someone below them was yelling at a guy he was going the wrong way.
Meaning the gunman was right on their heels.
The final flight of stairs was empty and Parker took them two at a time. She nearly fell, and a bullet whizzed past them. It ricocheted off the metal railing with a clang she could barely hear over the wailing fire alarm.
He slammed his shoulder into the emergency release bar over the door labeled “rooftop access” and it burst open, spilling them out onto the gray, flat roof dotted with duct intakes and pitched skylights. She was half-spun, half-flung out of Parker’s hold and away from the door as he slammed it closed.
“Run, Lex,” he commanded.
Run . . . where? They were eight stories up and there was nowhere to go. Absolutely nowhere to hide, either.
When the door started to swing out, Parker thrust his shoulder into it and held it closed, making it impossible for her to leave him anyway. His shoes couldn’t get traction on the roof’s surface, and began to slip, forcing panic to bubble in her throat. She flattened her back against the door as well, trying to help him. The first strike, the gunman got the door to budge, but it slammed shut under Parker and Lexi’s weight.
His second kick was powerful and knocked her forward onto her hands and knees, scraping her palms. She scrambled back to her position, and exchanged a panicked look with her husband. There were two of them and only one gunman, but he had the leverage and they were eventually going to lose this battle.
The third kick sent both Parker and her sprawling. By the time she spun around, it was too late. The gun was thrust into her face, turning her husband into a statue. His voice was deceptively calm. Pleading with the gunman. “Don’t.”
Blood matted the man’s hair and trickled down his neck from where she’d struck him with the champagne bottle, and his eyes burned with white-hot fury. “Both of you,” he seethed through his teeth, “get on your knees.”
It wasn’t difficult for her, since she was basically already there, but Parker didn’t move. The gunman sneered his direction.
“Where would you like me to put the bullet in her?” he asked. “A kidney? One of her lungs? How about right in her gut?”
Parker’s knees thudded to the rooftop beside hers, but his expression was full of hatred. It screamed he was going to take this guy down first chance he got. She knew her husband would get it, too. He was already assessing the situation and computing risks versus outcomes.
Abruptly, sharp pain exploded on the side of her head, knocking her sideways and she cried out, falling into Parker’s arms. The guy had struck her with the side of his gun, and it hurt like a motherfucker. Her husband’s body was stone beneath her hands, and she felt him rear up—
“I don’t recommend that.” The gun barrel was hot and uncomfortable as it pressed to her throbbing, aching head. Once again, the threat strangled back her husband’s urge to retaliate. “Thanks for bringing us up here,” the gunman motioned to their surroundings, “where there aren’t any cameras.”
“Makes it easier to kill you with no one watching.” Parker’s words were so cold, she shivered, and his arms tightened around her. “If you so much as touch her again, I’m going to tear your hands clean off, asshole.”
The gunman grinned as if he thought Parker was fucking nuts. “Okay,” he patronized. His attention turned to Lexi. “Who is BlackDawn?”
Her husband jolted at the name. “That’s who you’re after, BlackDawn? Let her go and I’ll tell you.”
“Are you actually trying to negotiate?”
“We both have something the other one wants, don’t we?”
The gunman’s face set. “If you know who BlackDawn is, what the fuck do I need her for?”
“She’s BlackDawn’s wife.”
Confusion flitted through the silver eyes, and the moment he put it together was clear. “You’re BlackDawn.” When Parker didn’t deny it, the gunman readjusted his grip, as if resetting himself. “All right, who do you work for?”
“Titan Group.” He spat it out like it was no big deal. Lexi was still new to all of this, but wasn’t that information on a need-to-know basis? What was Parker doing? And . . . why the hell was he now smiling? “Not familiar with it?” he continued. “No worries. Here comes one of my coworkers to introduce himself.”
Colby Winters, who was a wall of muscle decorated in tactical gear, materialized from out of nowhere. One click of Winters’ Glock and the gunman went stock-still.
“Sorry I’m late to the party,” Winters said. “Traffic in the stairwell was a bitch.”
Relief poured through her as she eyed her husband’s friend.
“Drop it, buddy,” Winters continued, “and kick it back to me.”
The guy didn’t move, and the threat of his gun stayed on her.
“Oh, please. Please tell me you want to do this the fun way.”
Finally, the guy’s finger shifted off the trigger and he dropped his aim. The gun hung at his side. His shoulders were tight, his posture on high-alert, and he watched Lexi and Parker intently as they came to their feet.
“I said to drop it,” Winters reminded.
“I’m not gonna give up my gun, but let’s talk about a way for us all to walk away from this.”
Parker’s tone was dark. “Now you want to negotiate.”
“We both have something the other wants,” the gunman echoed back.
“The only thing I want is to pay you back for pistol-whipping my wife.”
The gunman grimaced. “Served her right. She tried to crack my skull open with a bottle of champagne.”
Winters turned his gaze to her, and his expression said he was thrilled. “Oh, yeah, Lexi? Nice.”
“I’ll tell you,” the gunman said, “who hired me, and everyone walks. No bullshit.”
Even though they were outside, the air was tense and thick, and she couldn’t shake the feeling control was devolving. The pounding in her head made it difficult to think. “His phone, Parker, in his coat. He called his employer while he was in our room.” If they had that number, Parker could trace it with surgical precision. Hell, even she could, but with Titan’s resources, he would be faster.
When Parker moved for it, the gun came back up, aimed at the center of her husband’s chest.
“Easy now,” Winters said. “Don’t go doing something that’s going to get you killed.”
Who, exactly, was he talking to? Because even with the gun shoved in Parker’s direction, he continued to inch his way forward.
“Lex, head over to Winters.”
She knew what he was doing. He wanted her out of harm’s way, not just to have her safe, but so he could focus. So, she reluctantly put one foot in front of the other and plodded over to stand behind Winters. Her heart was racing, making the throbbing in her head a hundred times worse.
“Might as well give me your phone,” Parker said. “I’m going to end up with it one way or another.”
The sound of a fire engine approaching captured the gunman’s attention for a fraction of a second, but it was more than enough for Parker. He lunged for the gun, pushing it out of the way as he spun into an attack. Her eyes widened in horror while watching the man she loved struggle against an opponent who was taller, heavier, and armed.
Pfft! The gun went off, and a bullet lodged into the roof. The men were a blur of aggression. Parker had both hands on the gunman’s wrist and drove his knee repeatedly up, trying to break the guy’s hold.
Another slam of Parker’s knee, and the guy grunted in pain, but that was the last thing she saw. Winters backpeddled, pushing her away from the dangerous battle for the weapon, and his huge form not only protected, but blocked her view.
She heard bodies colliding with each other. A heavy clattering she hoped was the gun on the rooftop, followed by a sliding noise as it was kicked away. There came a sound of skin smacking skin, then grunts and efforts as the men fought with their bare hands. A huge crash, and someone exhaled loudly.
“Stay down,” Parker barked.
Lexi stepped to the side and peeked around Winters’ arm. The man was struggling against Parker, who had one knee buried in the guy’s chest and a hand searching his suitcoat pocket. As soon as he had the phone pulled out, the guy slithered out from under his hold, and went scrambling for the gun that had skittered by the edge of the roof.
“Winters!” Parker tossed the phone at him, then took off after the guy.
No, a voice in her head screamed. The guy was going to get to his gun, and in her fear, she tried to run for Parker. Winters hooked his arm around her waist, stopping her, but it made it impossible for him to keep the bad guy in his sights.
“No!” she yelled, horrified. The guy scooped up his gun. He swung to fire—
Parker barreled into him, knocking the man backward, and he’d run out of real estate. As her husband fell to the rooftop, the man stumbled until the backs of his legs hit the small ledge at the edge of the roof, which was below the height of his knees, and he tipped backward.
His silver eyes went wide with shock as he went over . . .
Then, he was gone.