Page 116 of Free to Judge

The first guard never sees me.

I deliver a sharp jab to the neck. With that, he crumples to the ground, unconscious. The other guard raises his weapon, but I’m already lifting mine beneath his chin. I sneer as the smell of urine permeates the air, showing his cowardice.

Instead of killing him., I grab the man’s throat, cutting off his breath. His eyes widen in confusion before he tries to struggle. I keep the force up until his eyes roll back in his head and he slowly slides down the front of my body, utterly limp. I murmur, “Fuck, I hate when they pee on me.”

Keene approaches out of nowhere. “That’s the price you pay for shitting on my daughter. Now, let’s go get her.”

My heart thunders in my chest at the thought of Kalie being so close, but still in so much danger. Before I open the door, Keene lays his fingers across mine. “Whatever happens, I need you to know this wasn’t your fault. It’s Jack’s.”

Absolution. I don’t deserve it, but I still nod to let Keene know I heard him. “On three?”

He jerks up his chin. “One, two…”

I pull back the door, cringing at the small squeak. I try to wedge myself inside, but there’s not enough space to force myself through. Keene shoves me out of the way. “Let me try.” He tries to wedge his leaner build through, but no joy.

We both take a step back and search for an easier entrance. “The windows are easily a good fifty feet off the ground, and we don’t have the kind of equipment with us to repel down from the roof.”

“Fuck,” Keene curses. Then he holds up his hand. His whole body shudders.

I edge closer. “You hear her?”

“I hearhim. He’s berating her for saying I’m strong enough to hurt him.” His eyes glow behind his mask. “I know he killed your partner, but now he’s hurt my sister and my daughter. I owe him.”

Just as I’m about to reply, the others join us. I nod at the two just beyond the entrance. “Both are still alive.”

Clifton murmurs, “On it.” Stepping away, he talks into his radio even as he trusses both of our hostages up like Thanksgiving turkeys.

“What are you two waiting for?” Jon asks.

“Door’s stuck,” I snarl.

McCullough then Jon put their hands on the rusted handle. Keene places his hands on either side of theirs. Finally mine go right next to Keene’s. We’re all ready to rip off the warehouse door. I plant my feet and call, “One, two…”

On three, we all pull back as hard as we can.

This time, the door creaks open. The hinges protest under our brutality. Jon and McCullough take guard while Keene and I make our way inside.

That’s when we hear a warbled, “Calvary’s coming.”

Then nothing at all.

The silence inside is palpable except for the scuffling sounds of our boots against the concrete floor. I creep forward, every sense on high alert, listening for any movement, any noise that would betray her location.

Finally, I step into the unprotected center and want to murder someone.

The cavernous room is empty except for two people and two chairs. I take little notice of the man standing. Instead, my focus is locked on Kalie. She’s still breathing, though even from a distance, I can tell it’s labored.

The urge to revoke my earlier statement about letting her exact her revenge surges through me when I see her strapped to a chair.

Jack standing over her, his cane raised over his head.

The sight nearly makes me snap, I’m not quite certain what the sound that emits from my throat is. But while I’m busy trying to control my inner animal, Keene lifts his Desert Eagle and fires.

The first .50 caliber round takes off his father’s lower arm, causing the cane to go flying away from Kalie’s limp body.

The second shoots off his father’s leg.

The moment he’s down, I race toward Kalie.