“I’m not sure there’ll be anything left over for my friend, though.”
With each lateral half pace, Randall got a better view of the forthcoming sexual crime.
Facing him, her eyes closed, her head on a cushion, her hands tied behind her back, Faith was hunched over the sofa’s padded arm. Behind her, a man was preparing himself for the attack.
Randall glimpsed the woman, and his heart sunk. Until now, she had only been a photo with a name, an assignment. Now, seeing her up close, noticing the uncanny resemblance to someone he did know, someone he cared about, Devlin, he saw Faith Mahoney in a new light. And, seeing one of Devlin’s family members in this condition, made his temperature rise, made him clench his teeth.
He raised his Walther higher and lined up the front sight with the aggressor’s left ear. Thinking of the report the gun would make, and not knowing the second criminal’s whereabouts, he moved his finger from the trigger back to the frame and inched forward.
*******
Sensing another presence in the room, expecting to see Linebacker waiting for his turn with her, Faith opened her eyes and hope rushed into her soul.
Mason clutched her hips, his nails digging into skin.
Her spirit getting a surge of renewal at the sight of a man in a suit pointing a weapon at her soon-to-be rapist, she twisted her wrists against her restraints. Help yourself out of this mess, Faith. Help HIM help you.
Mason pulled her toward him.
She went with the motion, arched her back, stood up, and lunged forward. As the top of her right thigh hit the armrest, she twisted her upper body counterclockwise and threw out her left leg, delivering a vicious donkey kick to the predator’s genitalia.
Groaning, grabbing himself, he staggered backward.
Landing on her face and chest, unable to move, her legs hanging off the armrest, Faith lay on her stomach thinking of the man in the suit, hoping she had given him an edge in the coming battle.
*******
Recognizing an opportunity, Randall charged and hit Mason with a left cross to the head.
Stunned, Mason backed into a wall. Shaking free the cobwebs, he absorbed a punch to the gut and doubled over before spotting and grabbing the other man’s gun.
Still not wanting to fire his weapon and alert anyone else, Randall lowered his elbow three times onto the deputy marshal’s back.
Mason spun Randall around, drove the intruder into the wall, and pummeled his midsection.
Fending off the blows with his free hand, Randall eyed a couch pillow on the floor.
One of Mason’s fists penetrated the other man’s defenses.
The air leaving Randall’s lungs, he grunted while glimpsing his gun. This is nuts, Noah. You’re fighting with one arm tied behind your back. Another punch found his ribs, sending a shock wave of pain up the left side of his torso. Time to end this. He curled his left arm around Mason’s neck, getting him in a front headlock, and forced him to his knees.
Mason cocked his right arm.
Hooking the arm with his left elbow, Randall rolled his opponent, did a one-eighty, straddled the man’s chest, and pistol-whipped him twice, opening a two-inch gash on the kidnapper’s temple.
Blood sprayed the floor and speckled Randall’s suit coat.
Randall grabbed the pillow he had seen earlier, covered Mason’s face, touched the Walther’s muzzle to the cushion, and worked the trigger twice.
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 15
Thank You
Sitting back on his haunches, particles of pillow stuffing and fabric floating down around him, Randall managed to take a half breath. In the next instant, he shot looks in all directions, expecting the second man to show himself at any moment.
Holding his left elbow to his aching ribs, he got to his feet and shuffled to his left, toward the woman lying straight out over the couch’s armrest.
Trying his best not to grasp her intimate parts, but failing, he wrapped arms around Faith’s torso and eased her into a sitting position before taking a knee at her feet.
After giving him a quick peek, she spied the man on the floor a few feet away. A pillow lay beside what was left of his face. She turned back to the man kneeling before her. “Thank you.”
Hugging himself, his PPQ45 in hand and pointing behind him, Randall dropped his forehead onto her knees. His chest heaved, but he could not force oxygen to where it was needed. He held up an index finger and pumped it a couple times. A tick later, he sucked in two short breaths and righted his head a few inches, his lips grazing her knees.
Faith felt a tingling sensation race further up her body.
He threw out his chest, filled his lungs for the first time since taking the first punch, and exhaled.
A warm breeze whooshing over her legs, she eyed the top of her rescuer’s head.
“You’re,” he swallowed, grabbed more air, straightened his back, and placed his left hand on the sofa, “you’re welcome, Miss Mahoney.”
“Are,” she glanced down at the thumb touching her right leg before coming back to him, “are you okay?”
A pained expression overtook his features while he pressed his left elbow to his side. “Mostly.” A beat. “Now, we need to go before,” he jerked his head toward the dead man, “this guy’s buddy shows up. Those gunshots were nowhere close to being silent.” Laying his Walther on the cushion, he retrieved his knife, flicked open the blade, and curled arms around her as if he were going in for a hug. “Is there anything on you,” he worked the knife back and forth over her restraints, “I need to look at?”
Dipping her chin, she saw his head next to her bare chest while she felt his jacket sliding over her inner thigh. “I’m sorry. Is there some part of me you haven’t seen?”
He freed her, leaned back,
