“H—!” he started to shout, but her shoulder hit him squarely in the midsection, driving the air out of his lungs and bringing both of them to the floor. The impact clacked her teeth together and sent a jolt through her. Ignoring that, she grabbed for the gun he still clutched in his right hand. Grasping the barrel, she pushed up and twisted, yanking the pistol from his grip.

As soon as she had the weapon, she pushed off him, drawing another grunt as her knee dug into his lower belly. She backed up several steps, the gun aimed right at Lubchek’s still-heaving chest.

Keeping the gun in her right hand trained on a glaring Lubchek, she yanked a folding knife out of her pocket and used her teeth to open it. Once the blade sprang free, she sliced through the tape holding John to the chair—arms, then torso, then legs.

He pulled free of his chair just as Bastien gave a shout, and he and the bouncer look-alike came charging back toward them, guns raised. Molly threw the knife at them, but it flew wide. John grabbed the back of the chair and shoved it so it barreled toward them, knocking into the bulky guy and tripping him up. Bastien didn’t slow, his lips drawn back in a grimace as he aimed his gun at John.

Aiming her own gun toward the cop, Molly fired twice. The first shot winged his arm, and he dove to the side, taking cover behind one of the plywood partitions as the second shot missed him completely. Turning back toward Lubchek, she saw he was already up and lunging toward her. She brought the gun around, but she knew she was going to be too slow. He was going to take her down, and it was going to hurt.

Before he reached her, John’s booted foot connected with his temple, and Lubchek dropped to the floor. She barely even blinked in reaction before John was grabbing her arm and dragging her behind a nearby toppled shelving unit.

As soon as they were concealed from the others, he squeezed her in the quickest, hardest, most welcome hug she’d ever experienced. “That was amazing. I love you. You’re insane, but I still love you. If you ever do that again, I’ll… Well, I’ll probably have a heart attack, so don’t ever do that again.” As he continued to mutter, he crouched and ran to the opposite end of their overturned shelf, towing her behind him with a firm grip on her hand.

“Maybe don’t get captured and punched in the face a bunch of times, and I won’t have to,” she whispered, handing him the gun. “Here. You take this. I love you too, and I’m very glad that you’re not dead…yet. Cara’s in here somewhere, and Norah’s in the car.” As soon as he accepted the weapon, she checked her phone, but there weren’t any new texts. “I think she’s still parked and waiting for us, but she’s a horrible communicator. She could be driving back to Langston, for all I know.”