A loose floorboard under her boot, groaned. Mercerer's voice stopped instantly. Sarah turned and ran. She bolted for the kitchen door. "Sarah!
" Mercerer's voice wasn't a whisper anymore. It was a bark. She slammed the kitchen door and locked it, but it was a flimsy interior lock. She scrambled toward the hallway, toward Frank's room. The kitchen door kicked open with a crash.
Mercerer was there, his phone gone. A knife in his hand. His eyes were wide, manic. "You shouldn't have listened, girl. " Mercerer hissed.
"Frank," Sarah screamed, her voice tearing through the silent house. "Frank, he's a rat. " Mercerer lunged. Sarah didn't have a weapon. She had a pot of cold coffee.
She swung the glass carafe with all her strength. It connected with Mercerer's outstretched arm, shattering. Coffee and glass flew everywhere. Mercerer grunted, stumbling back, but he didn't go down. He swiped the knife, slashing Sarah's arm.
A line of fire erupted on her forearm. She fell back against the counter, clutching her arm. Mercerer advanced, raising the knife for a finishing blow. "It's just business," Mercerer snarled. Boom.
The sound of a shotgun racking a shell stopped Mercerer in his tracks. Mama Jo stood in the doorway of the living room. A Mossberg 500 pump-action shotgun leveled at Mercerer's chest. For a grandmotherly woman in a floral night gown, she looked terrifyingly comfortable with the weapon. "Drop it, Mercerer," Mama Jo said calmly.
or I'll paint the fridge with your brains. Mercerer froze. "Jo, put it down. She's lying. She attacked me.
" "I heard you on the phone," Sarah yelled, blood dripping from her arm. He's working with Holloway. He's going to sell us out. The hallway door burst open. Frank and Big Mike came charging out, pistols drawn, wearing only their boxers and T-shirts.
They took in the scene instantly. Sarah bleeding. Mama Jo with the shotgun. Mercerer with a knife. "Drop it, Mercerer," Frank ordered, his voice like the crack of a whip.
Mercerer looked at Frank, then at the shotgun, then at the knife. He knew the math. He dropped the knife. It clattered on the linoleum. Big Mike was on him in a second, slamming him face first into the floor and zip tying his hands behind his back.
Frank walked over to "Sarah. " He looked at the cut on her arm. It was deep but not life-threatening. "You okay? " He called them.
Sarah gasped, adrenaline making her shake violently. He called Apex. He told them I have the proof on Holloway. He was going to give me to them. " Frank turned to Mercerer, who was being hauled up by Mike.