Page 93 of Z For Butterfly Man
“Copy. You stay put. Don’t blow your cover. We don’t know if we’ll still need it.”
I stay back, close enough to see the cabin through the trees, far enough not to get caught if Morra figures it out.
My pulse hammers as the police cars approach the dirt road. Any second now, they’ll find her. Any second, this nightmare will end.
Seconds pass like years. “What’s taking them so long? They should have broken in by now.” Ashford said I was the backup plan if his went south, but maybe I should go help. “C’mon.”
Two more minutes. I can’t wait any longer. I take one step toward the cabin—
A blinding white flash followed by a roar tears the air apart. The cabin lifts, splinters and collapses in a bloom of fire.
“Ashford!” Smoke rolls over the treeline. Outlines of bodies—Ashford and his team—scatter across the clearing.
My stomach drops. He knew. Morra knew we were coming.
I run toward the cove. A faint wake slices through the water’s surface. A boat, the fucking Beneteau Morra sent me to investigate, already moving, already gone. The last trace of her, the last proof he was ever here.
The bastard planned it all. He still has her, and I have no clue where he’s taking her or how the hell I’m supposed to find out.
CHAPTER 43
Birdie
“So I went to your house and found your secret computer. You were always adding to the manuscript,” Brandon says, walking toward me without looking at me. He’s watching Tristan like a hawk. “I looked for clues, and I found one. ‘March 4th, the stalker is at Sweet Home before I arrive. He thinks he’s invisible, but I spot him as I spot the sun. If he’d been following me from my house, he’d have arrived after me, not before. He must be cyber-stalking me, and he must be stationed close to Sweet Home, a place with a vantage point to have a clear view of the coffee house.’ I ran a few searches and bingo. I found your loft, Mr. Morra.”
Oh, Brandon. That sweet boy, whose only fault is looking like the man who ruined my life, went through all this trouble to save me.
As glad as I am to see him, I’m too scared for him. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be in any danger because of me. Tristan is psychotic and ruthless. He’s much stronger and more experienced than Brandon. If they fight, Tristan will win.
“You.” Tristan doesn’t drop his gun. “Another traitor. You were working with the detective, too. You reset the jammer. You told him about the cabin.”
Brandon keeps moving until he shields my body with his. “It’s over. Drop your weapon.”
My fingers work while Brandon talks. I’ve covertly palmed one of the labia clamps while Tristan was raging. I coax itinto a sharp pin with that curved hook perfect for slipping into tight spaces and try to work the cuffs with it. Once, I protected Brandon for my selfish reasons. This time I’ll protect him because he doesn’t deserve to get hurt, not for me. He has his whole life ahead of him, and I can’t bear losing another innocent soul. This is my tragedy. If anyone needs to suffer, let it be me.
Tristan gives a hollow laugh. “You really think I’m just gonna let you take her?Saveher from me?”
“Please, Mr. Morra. Don’t make things any worse.”
My hands shake as I move the clamp into the old lock, my heart in my throat.Please let it work. Please.
“Things are already at their worst.” Tristan sighs. “You really shouldn’t have come here.” He shifts to the side. He’s in my line of view now.Please don’t let him see me.“All alone.”
“Drop the weapon. This is your last warning, Morra,” Brandon says.
“Or what? You’ll shoot me? You’re a good soldier, Brandon, but you forget I trained you. I know your tells. You’re hurt. Your shoulder is bleeding through your shirt. Your aim is compromised. You really think you stand a chance against me? So why don’tyoudrop your weapon? She’s not your mother or your sister. I’m giving you a chance to go home to your real family in one piece. You’re a good kid, Brandon. You have a future. Don’t throw it away for her. Go. Get out of here and pretend you never found this place.”
“I can’t do that.” Brandon’s gun doesn’t waver. “I’m not leaving without Mrs. Abel.”
My heart drops. Brandon has a family, a mother and a sister. They can’t lose him. They need him more than I do. He can’t be here like Tristan says. Why would he risk his life for me? Why would he…
No. No, this can’t be true.
Tristan raises his weapon. “Then you’re going to die.”
It plays out in my mind before it happens. The trajectory. The precision of Tristan’s aim. Brandon is on the floor with a hole in his skull.
“No!” My wrist breaks free a split second before Tristan points his gun at Brandon’s head. I throw myself in front of Brandon and—
