Page 93 of Winning His Wager

“Fletcher!”

“Nobody move!” a male voice yelled. “The police are on the way, and we have multiple weapons aimed at you now. Put her down and put your hands over your head.”

It was a voice that was familiar but not one she could identify right away. Not in the dark, but she had definitely heard it before. And it washelp. And that was what mattered.

It gave her hope.

And well, Dylan never had really listened to orders.

She wrapped the fingers of her good hand in the jerk’s hair and yanked. As hard as she could.

Until he squealed out and dropped her.

Dylan landed hard.

This time, she didn’t think she could get back up. Not without help, anyway. All she could do was roll to the side, just a little bit.

Bright lights surrounded them.

She just stayed right where she was, trying to catch her breath and ignore the pain.

85

Quade heldthe large spotlight one of Fletcher’s uncles had given him and kept it pointed in the direction Clint had instructed. Clint and Ben had taken charge of everything. They were both former cops, and he was damned glad they were there. They reminded him of Slater with their way of just knowing how to take charge.

Dylan was on the ground, and it was obvious she was hurting. But no one moved to get to her.

Not with the man standing over her. Holding a gun and moving around erratic like that. The gun was pointed down. At the ground.

Where Dylan was.

He was looking right at Dylan, desperation on his face. The guy, right around Quade’s age, looked up. Into Quade’s eyes. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”

“Don’t move, dude,” Quade said, the words just coming out. “If you move, you’ll just make it worse for yourself. There are a lot of us and only one of you. We caught your buddy already. That Hayden guy. He’s going to jail. You really can’t get away, and if you hurt her, there are a bunch of us with guns. You’ll probably die.” Quade wouldn’t even know what to say if he lied. So he just spoke the truth and hoped it was good enough to help one of the most amazing women he had ever known. “We came for her. Because we love her and we’re not going to let anyone hurt Dylan again.”

“That fucker Will just called, said to get here. We were just trying to help him out. Help a friend. He took off. Loser.” The guy sounded like he was rambling, almost incoherent. It took Quade a half second to figure out what he had said—it was so garbled together. He’d heard people on drugs sound like that before.

“The police are going to get him. They have roadblocks, I think. Why don’t you put that gun down? We’ll talk and everything.” Slater had taught him to always keep his cool in tough situations. To use his head, his instincts. Quade kept his eyes on the man in front of him.

The man pointing a gun at Dylan now.

“You really need to put the gun down,” Quade told him. “If you don’t, you are going to be the one to get hurt.”

86

Fletcher listenedto Quade as he talked. That damned Wonkus McBubbles was keeping calm. Keeping control.

Keeping attention on him and not on the area behind the man.

He recognized the guy with a gun. Toby Andrewson. He’d been a few years behind Fletcher in school. He’d just been like every other guy Fletcher had known back then. Getting through school, no real plans for his future, making dumbass choices.

But this?

Abducting a woman? Being involved in drugs? Maybe Fletcher could believe it a little. But Toby Andrewson wasn’t hurting Dylan again.

Fletcher crept closer.

As Quade kept talking.