The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 203

He crept up the last step and slipped into the shadows at the corner, just out of sight. From there, he could hear two men inside talking, their voices low and filthy, their words getting bolder.

Cold sweat beaded at his temple.

He could’ve sworn three men went upstairs.

So where was the third?

Just then, the rough-looking guy who’d been bossing the younger one around stood up from his chair. He wore an ugly, leering grin and rubbed his palms together. “I’ll go check things out downstairs. Might as well cop a feel while I’m at it, right?”

Harris’s face went hard.

No time left.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Gunshots crashed through the ceiling. Upstairs, someone shouted a curse. Petty’s heart slammed in her chest, dread washing over her.

Suddenly, a body tumbled down the stairs, coming to rest at the bottom. It was a handsome face she recognized.

Ice crawled over her scalp as she bolted to his side, face chalk white. Blood was spreading fast across his shirt.

“Harris!”

He pressed his hand to his chest, trying to shield the wound from her eyes. Blue veins stood out on the back of his hand as he strained to sit up, teeth clenched.

The rough man stomped down the stairs, a pistol in hand, smoke still curling from the barrel. He spat on the ground. “Son of a bitch. Thought you could shoot at us? This ain’t Cabinda!”

He cocked the gun and aimed it at Harris’s head.

“Wait!” Petty threw herself between them, arms spread wide, her breath coming hard. “Aren’t you planning to give me to Abbot for the reward? If I’m dead, what good is that to you?”

“Don’t move. If you care about his life, stand down.”

Petty spun around, but the man she’d been holding broke free in her moment of distraction. He twisted her arm and yanked the gun away, then flung her hard against the wall.

Pain exploded across her back. She looked up at Harris, now grabbed in a chokehold by another man—one who’d come running from the cockpit. Hopelessness closed in around her, cold and absolute.

Bang.

A bullet shattered the cabin window, punching clean through the man holding Harris. He dropped instantly.

The thumping sound of helicopter blades filled the air. Through the shattered glass, a sleek black helicopter hung above the yacht. In the open doorway, a hand gripping a sniper rifle appeared, steady and controlled. Behind the scope, a pair of jet-black eyes locked grimly onto the yacht, narrowing at Petty’s trembling face.

In the blink of an eye, another shot rang out. The second bullet tore through the window.

The rough-looking man lunged at Petty, desperate to grab her as a shield. The bullet whistled past and buried itself in his throat before he could make a sound. He collapsed, silent, blood pouring over his shirt and the floor.