Sharpshooter (Shadow Agents 3)

And she wasn’t usually afraid.

“What do you know?” Sydney asked him.

“I know...” A heaving breath. “You.”

Her makeshift weapon cut through the binds on his wrists. There was no rope on his ankles, and he surged to his feet. As he turned toward her, he yanked off the sack that covered his head. In that dim lantern light, Sydney got her first look at the hostage’s face.

The world seemed to slow its spinning.

His hair was longer, his beard heavy, but...those cheekbones. That hawkish nose.

“Sydney...”

He yanked her into his arms. His mouth pressed to hers, and she was so stunned that she couldn’t respond, couldn’t move at all.

Slade?

He’d been alive. They’d left him, and he’d been...alive.

His mouth was hard on hers. So hard.

She pulled back, staring up at him in shock. “Slade?”

She realized the gunfire had stopped. A good sign...or a very bad one. Sydney pushed away from Slade and glanced toward that sloping entrance.

A man stood there. Tall, with wide shoulders, armed. A man who’d been watching them.

He stepped forward, and the lantern light spilled onto Gunner. It was too dark for her to see the expression in his eyes, but his body looked tense.

“Slade?” Gunner’s voice was hoarse as he lowered his weapon.

Slowly, Slade turned to face his brother. Slade was thinner—much thinner—than he’d been before.

Two years.

Gunner began to walk toward Slade with slow, hesitant steps. “I—I thought you were dead.”

Slade shuffled toward him, limping slightly.

Gunner lifted his arms to embrace his brother.

Slade drove his fist into Gunner’s jaw.

“Slade!” Sydney shouted.

But Slade wasn’t stopping. He attacked Gunner, pummeling him with his fists, kicking him with his legs. Again and again.

Gunner didn’t fight back. Didn’t try to land a blow, didn’t try to block any of the attacks. Gunner fell, and Slade kicked his ribs. Driving in hard with his boot-covered feet.

“Stop!” Sydney grabbed Slade’s arm. But he swung around and shoved her back, so hard that she slammed into the rough wall behind her.

“Sydney?” Gunner’s growl. And he was rising then.

Even as Slade stood over her now, with his fist drawn back as if he’d strike her.

He’s been through hell. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing. Sydney cleared her throat. “You have to calm down, Slade.”

Gunfire burst again, sounding as if the blasts came from just yards away.