Page 54 of Trapped (Sheppard & Sons Investigations #6)

Ashley

T hud! Nathan landed. Then silence, until he yelled, “Clear.”

Thank you God.

“There’s a bomb,” I warned him, but he didn’t respond.

Two more people entered, then I heard Havoc yelp. I remember his name . Another thud echoed as someone else came in through the window.

“Clear the bedroom,” Nathan said.

“On it.” That was Jamie’s voice.

“Jamie?”

He didn’t answer.

I turned to see Jack with him.

“All clear,” Jamie said, exiting the room.

“There’s a bomb,” I said again.

They looked at the door.

“Bravo Two, Sierra One, we’re inside.”

“Why are you ignoring me?” I screamed.

“We’re not.” Nathan’s gruff voice pulled my attention away from the brothers. “Are you hurt?” His hands were already checking for injuries.

“No, did you hear me?”

“Yes.” Nathan still hadn’t made eye contact. “Help me untie her,” he said to his friend.

“Fucking listen to me,” I screamed again.

“Hold up,” his friend said. Havoc walked over and sniffed around the chair. He barked once and sat.

Nathan stopped moving. Stopped breathing, from the sounds of it.

He’d untied one arm, so I used that hand to lift his face.

I stared him in the eye, making sure he heard every word when I said, “There’s a fucking bomb under the fucking chair. If I move, it’ll fucking explode.”

His eyes rounded. Then he blinked twice before sucking in gulps of air.

Nathan’s chin dropped to his chest as he whispered, “Fuck.”

“Fuck is right.”

“I’m going to run my hands along the seat to see what we’re working with.”

I really didn’t want him doing that because my ass was wet from losing control of my bladder. “I’m sitting on a pressure plate. Fucknut wasn’t shy about sharing the details.”

Nathan nodded, his eyes glued to the bottom of the chair. “Fucknut?”

“Fucknut,” Jack said, chuckling. “Glad you’re okay, Flirty.”

I wasn’t. Okay and I weren’t in the same state. “I’m going to be blown to smithereens or starve to death in this fucking chair. I’d hardly say I’m okay.”

“That won’t happen,” Nathan growled. “We’ll find a way.”

“You keep being feisty. Let us worry about the chair,” Jamie said, resting his hand on my shoulder.

I wanted nothing more than to believe them. Literally nothing. “Easy for you to say.”

“Kroup, think you can disarm it?”

“We’d have to dismantle part of the chair, and it might be rigged.”

Nathan dropped his head before looking at me, his hands resting on my knees. “Do you know if Al rigged the chair?”

“He didn’t mention it.”

“Doesn’t mean he didn’t.” It’d be typical for him to give her most of the details and leave a major one out.

“He really hates you,” I said.

“I know.”

“He’s a fucking psychopath.”

“I know.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Not yet.”

Al still might see his plan work. I could die in front of Nathan, or we could die together. Either way, Al would live to have his revenge.

“You can’t let him win,” I said.

“He won’t. We’ll get you out of here. I promise.”

His words sounded like false hope, but the conviction in his eyes convinced me.

“Then get to it, Cowboy.”

His eyes flared, a small smile formed on his lips before he stood up. “I won’t risk it. I think we have to do this the Indiana Jones way.”

“How?” Jamie asked. “We can’t move fast enough to replace her and prevent the bomb from exploding.”

I groaned. That wasn’t comforting. Not one bit.

“Sorry,” Jamie said.

Jack walked behind the chair. “We put pressure on the plate. Nathan pulls Flirty off. We put a dead body on it. It won’t be hard to find one heavy enough to replace her.”

I appreciated the compliment but couldn’t let them do that. “I, um, you um, you can’t do that.” I’d die of embarrassment, knowing their hands were wet with my pee.

“Why not?” Nathan asked, tilting his head.

“Come here.” When he leaned in closer, I whispered, “I sorta peed my pants.” If the bomb didn’t kill me, the embarrassment might.

Nathan threw his head back and laughed. “Is that all?” He looked over my head at Jack. “Glove up.”

He didn’t tell them why, but I had to assume they’d heard me because Jack didn’t hide his laugh.

If I don’t die, I’ll have to change my name and move to another country.

“Problem solved.” He squeezed my knee. “Trust me, we’ve all been there.”

I made a mental note to ask him about that later. If I don’t die.