Page 30 of Landry (Bayou Brotherhood Protectors #7)

Camille and Billy Ray had settled on a bench as the fan boat navigated through the bayou, with Billy Ray giving the captain directions with a point of his finger. Other than slowing at bends in tributaries, they pushed as fast as they could go.

With a watch, Camille couldn’t tell how close they were to the end of the ten-minute block of time Dion had given them.

She flexed her fingers, praying they would get there soon and that Landry and his team of Brotherhood Protectors would somehow figure out where they were headed and swoop in to save them.

Billy Ray raised his hand and shouted over the roar of the fan, “Slow!”

Dion glanced at his watch. “You’re at nine and a half minutes. You sure you want to slow down now?”

Billy Ray nodded and pointed to the left.

The man at the helm slowed and drove the craft around a tree with a branch hanging low over the water. Camille recognized that tree. Her heart rate increased. If they were going to escape, it had to be soon.

As they cleared the tree branch, the dilapidated shack appeared.

“This it?” Dion asked.

Billy Ray nodded.

“Stop!” Dion called out over the fan noise.

The driver cut the engine and let the airboat glide up to the rickety dock.

One of the men leaped out and tied a line to one of the posts.

“Get out,” Dion said, pointing a handgun at Camille and Billy Ray.

Billy Ray jumped out onto the dock and reached back to help Camille.

She took his hand and let him get her to the dock safely. Once she was steady, she didn’t let go of his hand. The boy needed to know he was not alone and that someone cared what happened to him, especially if this was their last day, last hour, last minute to live.

“You, too.” Dion pointed the gun at Richard.

“Why?” Richard argued. “I don’t know where the kid put the bear.”

The gun exploded.

Richard cried out and clapped a hand over his left arm.

“Get out,” Dion said, “or I’ll shoot you again. This time I’ll aim for a vital organ.”

Richard scrambled out of the boat onto the dock, blood soaking the sleeve of his shirt.

“Flashlight.” Dion held out his empty hand.

One of the men slapped a light into his hand.

Dion stepped out of the boat, passed Richard and sneered. “Keep an eye on him. If we don’t get the necklace, we’ll need him to tell Tony why.”

To Camille and Billy Ray, he said, “Move. Your ten minutes are up. Kid, if you don’t get that bear to me in the next few seconds, I’ll shoot your mother.”

“Go on, Billy Ray. Find Fuzzy,” Camille whispered. “I’m with you.”

Billy Ray opened the latch with his free hand and pushed the door inward. He stepped to the side with the door and pulled Camille with him.

Dion followed.

As soon as Camille cleared the door, Billy Ray shoved her hard. “Duck,” he cried and slammed the door on Dion’s gun hand.

The gun went off.

Dion dropped it, his hand caught in the door. When he jerked his hand free, Billy Ray slammed the door shut and shoved the latch into its wooden brace, effectively locking Dion and his thugs out of the hut.

“Son of a bitch!” Dion cursed and pounded the door. “Open the damned door.”

“What now?” Camille whispered. They were stuck inside a hut barely held together by old nails and weathered boards.

Billy Ray pushed the tiny handmade wooden table to the side and stuck his finger into a hole in the floor. He pulled hard. The floorboard came up. “Go,” he said.

Camille shook her head. “I can’t fit through that gap. You go. Get out of the hut and hide until they leave.”

Billy Ray shook his head. “Not without you.”

Something, or someone, hit the door hard, shaking the entire hut and pushing the old nails in the wooden brace half an inch from the brace post.

Another body slam hit the door.

At the moment, the door crashed in, and Billy Ray dropped the floorboard and moved to stand over it. One of Dion’s biggest men stumbled through, righted himself and stood just inside, his back against the door, a flashlight pointed at Billy Ray and Camille.

Dion entered, holding the gun in his other hand. “I’m tired of playing games. Get the damned bear or she dies.” He aimed his pistol at Camille.

Billy Ray held up his hands. “Okay, I’ll get it. Just don’t hurt her.”

“My hand is shaking. My finger can slip on the trigger any second,” Dion warned. “And don’t try anything else. Heroics will get her killed just as easily.”

Billy Ray climbed onto the table, reached up into the rafters and jumped down with the bear in his hand.

Dion waved the gun. “Rip it open.”

Billy Ray hesitated.

“Do, Billy Ray. Ava would want you to,” Camille said softly.

The boy dug his fingers into the seam at the back of the bear and pulled it apart. Stuffing fell out, drifting to the floor, then a soft, cloth-wrapped wad of quilt batting, tied with a string, landed with a soft thump on the floor.

“Pick it up and open it,” Dion said.

Billy Ray bent to pick up the small, cushioned package, slid the string off and unfolded the quilt batting to reveal a necklace.

The flashlight beam skimmed over the diamonds, making them glitter and refract light onto the surrounding walls. There had to be a few dozen diamonds, all easily larger than a karat.

No wonder Tony wanted it back. It had to be worth a fortune.

Camille didn’t care about the necklace or its dollar value. All she cared about was getting Billy Ray out alive. She moved to stand closer to Billy Ray. “You have your necklace. Now, leave us alone.”

“Give it to me.” Dion held out his empty hand, the one that had been slammed in the door.

Billy Ray reached out and slapped the necklace into Dion’s injured hand.

Dion cried out and backhanded the boy with the side of the pistol.

Billy Ray flew across the room, crashing into the small cot. He slid to the floor and lay there, blinking his eyes as if stunned, fighting to keep from passing out.

“You little bastard,” Dion sneered. “I should’ve shot you first, then collected the diamonds.” He held the necklace draped over his injured hand and pointed the gun at Billy Ray, his hand shaking, clearly not his dominant hand.

Camille couldn’t let Dion shoot the boy. He was only ten years old with his whole life ahead of him.

“Say goodbye to your mother, brat,” Dion said.

Camille threw herself at Billy Ray, crossing in front of the Dion.

The gun went off.

The bullet hit her in the side as her body continued its trajectory toward the floor. Her body landed on top of Billy Ray, and her head slammed into the bedframe. Her vision blurred around the edges.

Inside, she chanted, You can’t pass out. You can’t pass out.

“Want me to finish them?” a voice said through the fog of Camille’s mind.

“No need to waste another bullet,” Dion’s voice drifted to her as if coming from a long way down a tunnel. “Lock them in and set the building on fire.”

The blurry images of the two men passed through the door, taking the light with them.

If not for the pain radiating through her side, Camille would have thought she’d passed out. But she hadn’t.

The boy beneath her stirred.

Camille’s fogged brain cleared enough to know Billy Ray was alive.

“What happened?” he asked.

“They’ve locked us in.”

The sound of liquid splashing against the side of the hut made Camille’s heart sink to the pit of her belly. “They’re going to burn the shack.”

“With us in it?”

“That’s their plan,” she said.

Flames erupted outside the hut, shedding light through the cracks in the walls, illuminating what would be their coffin if they didn’t get out soon.

Camille rolled off the boy, the effort almost more than she could manage. When she touched her side, warm, sticky liquid coated her hand.

She couldn’t focus on her blood loss. Billy Ray had to get out of the hut. As old and weathered as the boards were, they would burn through quickly.

Camille half-crawled, half-dragged herself the short distance across the floor and ran her hands across the wooden floorboards. “Where is it?” she said, a sob threatening to choke her.

Billy Ray crawled over to her, pushed her hand aside and fit his finger into the hole.

Flames burned through the gasoline and consumed the walls, climbing fast. Smoke entered through the cracks in the walls.

Because they lay on the floor, they hadn’t yet had the worst of the smoke and heat.

Billy Ray yanked the board out of the floor and shoved it aside.

The roar of the airboat fan penetrated the crackling of the fire as Dion and the rest of Tony’s men left the hut, condemning the people inside to a fiery finish.

Not on Camille’s watch. Summoning all her strength, she sat up like nothing was wrong. “Go. I’ll be right behind you,” she said, knowing it was a lie. She couldn’t fit through the gap and didn’t have the energy left to try.

“I’m not going without you,” he said.

“You have to.” She reached around and found the empty fabric shell of Fuzzy Bear. “You have to take this to Ava. Gisele will fix it and make it better.”

“But nothing will make it better if you don’t make it home,” he said. He got behind her and pushed her toward the hole in the floor.

“Please, Billy Ray,” she said, the light fading at the edge of her vision. The smoke was getting lower. Flames burned through places in the wall, climbing to the roof.

Billy Ray had to go, or he’d die.

“Please go,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll be right...”

Her world went black.