Her skin turned to ice in the face of such pure evil. Her dead husband may have been a criminal, but never would he have put a gun to a child's head or burned people alive. In that knowledge came at least some peace in the middle of this hell. She hadn't given years of her life to a total monster. Maybe in his own twisted and, yes, selfish way, Kurt had enough humanity in him to love them.
Rusty backed from Paige, hands up, weapon pointing skyward. "I'm not putting a gun to the kid's head. You do it."
The guy was squeamish over which way they died? Good God. At least the arguing might buy some time to angle for a better position.
Eddie tossed his screwdriver in the box and stepped forward. "Fine. I'll do it."
They were out of time. They would have to take their chances with bullets flying.
Paige kept her eyes trained on Bo, love pulsing through her and from him so darn bright she could swear it lit the dark landing strip. Pure love. Just like Bo had said, the real kind of love that empowered. She watched, waited, and saw...
Now.
Bo launched, chopping at Chuck's gun hand while simultaneously booting Rusty in the gut. The traitorous pilot toppled, a shot echoing, going wild as he flailed. His head smacked the side of the Suburban. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Paige kicked the legs out from under Eddie, his head slamming the ground hard for a disorienting second she fully intended to utilize to protect her child.
Crouching, shielding her daughter, Paige shoved Kirstie toward the Suburban. "Crawl under, punkin. Lie flat. Don't watch."
From the corner of her eye, she found Bo and Chuck punching, fighting, each working toward the dropped gun while Eddie struggled to his feet. Rolling away, Paige took cover behind the bumper to gauge her next move.
She scooped up a fist-size rock from beside her tennis shoe. She wasn't the pampered wife of a crooked businessman any longer. The past months had increased the strength of her muscles and resolve.
And this bastard who had stalked her child was heading toward Bo.
Paige sprinted, leaping onto Eddie's back, catching him unaware. Arcing back the rock, she bashed his temple, once, twice. Blood smeared his head while he shouted. He pumped bullets into the air then down again wildly. Pocking the ground near Bo's feet.
Then farther.
Toward the plane.
Thwump.
The Cessna exploded. Heat seared her, they fought so close.
The force of the explosion rocked through the ground. Eddie stumbled backward, fell, slamming her to the hard-packed dirt of the runway. Air whooshed from her lungs. She went light-headed. Oh God, she couldn't faint now.
Paige struggled for breath with Eddie's weight still pinning her. Flames licked higher in a circle around the burning craft. A spark from the bullet igniting the leaked gas? Lack of air left her foggy.
Another gunshot sounded. Jolting her out of her daze.
"Bo!" she couldn't stop the scream from ripping through her throat. Adrenaline surged, and she flipped the unconscious man off her and to the side.
A weaving shadow towering in the dark, Anderson pulled the trigger again.
Bo staggered back. Blood bloomed from his right arm, staining white cotton crimson. He dropped flat.
"No! No, no, no, no," she chanted, crawling across the hard-packed earth toward him.
Bo rolled. Alive. He was alive. She scrambled to her feet.
And then Bo was on his side. Rusty's weapon in hand. Blood dripping down his arm, Bo raised the gun and popped two bullets in Chuck's kneecaps.
Shrieking, her old college friend staggered, crashed to ground, gun slipping from his hand. Paige scrambled to scoop up the 9 mm and trained it on the three men while Bo levered up to kneel. Anderson writhed while his two accomplices lay prone and unconscious for now.
Kirstie scampered out from under the Suburban, and Paige didn't even bother reprimanding her for not staying put. Her daughter raced, curls bouncing, and threw herself against Bo.
He flinched, but stayed silent and cupped the back of Kirstie's head in reassurance.