"You don't need him." She stepped forward. "Just take me. Leave Tanner tied up and take me with you."
"Kathleen, damn it, no!" Tanner's arm shot forward to block her.
"Cut it out, Doc," Quinn snapped. "I doubt you're interested in my charming ways or my Cayman Accounts. You can stop fluttering the eyelashes."
"Listen up, Quinn." Kathleen's chin tipped defiantly. "I've never been the eyelash-fluttering type, and I don't intend to start now. I'm being practical, just trying to make sure some of us get out of here alive. You're not going to leave me behind, because a woman makes a more sympathetic hostage—and a better bargaining tool."
"Kathleen!" Damned fool woman actually thought he would let her do this. "Shut up."
She plowed ahead, vintage lone ranger in spite of the frenzied panic radiating from Quinn. "You know as well as I do, Tanner's going to cause trouble. You need to tie him up now. Do you really think he'll let you get away with this? Let you keep me as a hostage while he sits on the sideline? First weakness on your part, and he'll take you out and we could all end up—"
"Or I could just shoot him." Quinn's arm swung in a wild arc as he shifted the gun to Tanner.
"No!" Kathleen grabbed Quinn's wrist, turning the 9 mm back to herself.
White-hot panic seared through Tanner. Damn it, if only she would keep her gorgeous mouth shut. He had a plan for tackling Quinn at the door once he got Kathleen past the threshold. Now the guy looked ready to snap, his arm trembling, the gun wavering so damned near Kathleen, the trigger finger flexing—
No. No. And hell, no!
Tanner sprang forward toward his compact target. The woman who would have gladly taken a bullet for him.
Kathleen felt the impact all the way through her teeth. Damn, but Tanner tackled like a pro.
Confusion, frustration, outright fear all rocked her with as much force as Tanner's linebacker body slamming her sideways.
Pop.
A bullet hissed from the silencer through the air just before they smacked the ground.
She waited for the stinging sensation. Some kind of pain beyond the jarring of hitting the floor. Anything to reassure her she'd been hit rather than Tanner.
Nothing. Not a scratch.
"Tanner? Talk to me! Now, damn it!"
"Shut up, Athena," he growled in her ear, raw emotion tempering his unmistakable anger. "I'm pretty pissed at you right now."
Relief melted the tension from her. "You can be as pissed as you want as long as you're alive."
Quinn loomed over them. "That was damned stupid. Brave but stupid. Why does everybody always insist on being a hero?"
Kathleen struggled to breathe, a difficult proposition with 238 pounds of Tanner shielding her and showing no signs of moving anytime soon.
Quinn knelt, gun clutched in two hands between his knees. "Roll off her. Now. We're not wasting anymore time."
Tanner flipped off Kathleen, slowly, easing to his feet. He towered over her, lights at his back casting his face in shadows. He extended an arm down to help her up.
Then she saw it.
Blood.
Streaming down the side of Tanner's face.
A scream built. Begged for release. Professional objectivity went all to hell as she leaped to her feet. "Oh, God, Tanner. Let me look."
"It just nicked me." Tanner shoved aside her hands and wiped away the blood with an impatient swipe of his wrist.
Kathleen peered through the dim glow. It seemed like the scratch he claimed it to be. Not that the knowledge stopped the grinding fear. Quinn was out of control and that made him beyond dangerous.