But who would keep him safe in return?
Brea clammed up. The woman didn’t want her dead, so hopefully she could buy a little time until Pierce’s backup arrived. She’d managed to put the unstable woman off this long. She could do it a bit longer.
“It doesn’t matter,” she answered finally. “This won’t end well. Nothing you’re doing will bring Emilo back.”
Clara whipped around, hate in her eyes. “But I will avenge him. His bitch of a wife got pregnant before she abandoned and betrayed him. Then your brutal American sniper ended him ignominiously in some seedy part of town. And no one has done a thing about it. I know what my brother did for a living. I know he was no saint. But he was my brother. And I loved him. Since no one else in his organization intends to seize retribution, I will.”
“Then what? Even if you succeed in killing Pierce, do you think he doesn’t have friends? Do you think they or the police will let you walk free?”
Clara turned bleak eyes her way. “I will have turned the gun on myself long before then. I have nothing more to live for.”
As her terrible words sank in, the woman seemingly reached a decision and gave her hair another savage tug, dragging her to the front of the abandoned building and into the circle of weak yellow light spilling through the front door. Then she slung Brea in front of her and pressed the gun to her temple.
Brea’s heart revved uncontrollably. Fear made her body tremble and her legs unsteady. God, please don’t let it end like this…
“Walker!” Clara called into the darkness. “If you want your woman to live, come toward me, toss down your weapons, and surrender.”
“No!” Brea shouted.
“Shut up, puta.” The woman yanked viciously on her hair again and pressed the gun so hard against her temple, Brea cried out in pain.
“Let her go,” Pierce called from the darkness, his voice booming across the feet separating them. Then he walked into the stream of light, gun in hand, still wearing his suit.
Brea gasped. “Don’t do this.”
Other than a glance to assess that she was okay, Pierce didn’t acknowledge her. “If you let Brea go, I’ll toss this down and do whatever you want.”
“You can’t. No!” Brea pleaded. “It’s a trap.”
“I don’t trust you,” Clara hissed. “You must surrender before I let her go.”
“If I do, what assurance do I have you’ll actually release her?”
“If you don’t, what assurance do I have you won’t simply kill me and walk away?”
He shrugged. “You don’t except that I’m a man of my word.”
“You are a man who kills,” she hissed. “You have no honor. Until now, I have not killed your woman because I have no strife with her, and I do not like to think of killing children before they are born. But I will. Right now.”
“She won’t,” Brea argued.
“Shut up!” Clara said as she covered her mouth with a sweaty palm. “Will you surrender or watch your woman and child die before your eyes?”
Pierce dragged in a deep breath, shook his head in regret, then met Clara’s gaze. “What do you want me to do?”
That was it? He was giving up? Sacrificing his life for hers? Pierce had felled enemy combatants and torn through armies, and he was going to simply let this unhinged woman put a bullet in his brain?
Brea struggled and squealed—to no avail.
“Toss your gun over there.” Clara pointed toward the swampy darkness, away from the warehouse. “Far away.”
Pierce didn’t hesitate, just chucked it into the abyss. “Now what?”
“That pole over there. I prepared it for you.” Clara gestured with a bob of her head. “Go. There are handcuffs on the ground. Put your arms around the pole and cuff yourself to it.”
No matter how she screeched or struggled, Pierce did exactly as he was told, and the click of the handcuffs as he doomed himself to death was a stab to her heart.
Horror swept through her. It couldn’t end this way. She would not let it, damn it.
She tried to catch Pierce’s gaze, but he seemed to look right through her. “Now let her go.”
Clara released her hair and removed the gun from her temple, then gave her a shove that almost sent her stumbling to her knees. “Leave.”
Hell no. Somehow, someway, she was going to get them out of this. “Let me at least say goodbye.”
If she could get close to Pierce, maybe they could devise something…
“I did not have the chance to say goodbye to my brother,” Clara quipped.
Brea didn’t point out that she hadn’t been having Emilo’s baby because it wouldn’t work. She needed an appeal to Clara’s heartstrings that she could grasp. “And doesn’t that feel cruel to you? I’ve done nothing to you, so why hurt me even more when you’re already taking the person I love most in this world?”
Tears fell down her cheeks, and Brea hoped they would move Clara to give her at least a few precious seconds.
The woman let out a noisy sigh. “Fine. One minute. Then you will leave. And look on the bright side. Walker is already dressed for his funeral.”
Brea shook as she ran across the property toward Pierce and wrapped her arms around him. The moment felt so surreal. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t how their future should end.
“Why are you letting her win?”
“Because nothing is more important to me than you. Matt and a guy named Trevor are both on their way, but they won’t get here in time.”
“Then I’ll stop her,” she whispered so softly only he could hear. “Tell me what to do.”
“To save me?” He shrugged like it didn’t matter, but his black eyes pleaded. “Don’t. Save you. Save our son.”
“Please don’t give up.” Her voice cracked. “Please.”
“Turn around and walk away. My end won’t hurt, and you’ll be fine. Go.”
“No.” She wasn’t usually obstinate, but now? This moment? Brea was digging in her heels and not giving up. “Help me get
