CRIMINAL INTENTIONS: Season Two, Episode Five: DEEP SPIRAL by Cole McCade

Author:Cole McCade [McCade, Cole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-16T16:00:00+00:00

[11: IF YOU’RE READY FOR A FIGHT]

ANYONE WHO BELIEVED OLD WOLVES were sluggish, slow, and ready to be put down had never seen Malcolm Khalaji in motion.

The moment Seong-Jae had picked up on what Malcolm intended when he had addressed the captive, he knew what his job would be.

To save Malcolm’s life.

And to give that girl a chance.

Seong-Jae felt as though a wavelength stretched between himself and Malcolm, a trembling thing that conveyed intent, momentum, unspoken words whispering to him what he needed to do—charged purpose that had ignited between them from the moment Seong-Jae had watched, his heart seizing, as Malcolm narrowly dodged that bullet. Dorcier’s attention was locked entirely on Malcolm, focused on him as the instigator, waiting for him to be the one to give the signal for Hannah to run so that Dorcier could counter, could force their hand.

He would not be expecting Seong-Jae.

And he would not be expecting Seong-Jae so quickly—as Seong-Jae stepped forward and took aim.

“Hannah. Now. Run,” he said.

And pulled the trigger without a moment’s hesitation.

He felt as though the built-up tension of every passing minute roiled through him in a charged, crackling ball of lightning that lashed over his entire body before traveling down his arm and surging into his hand, his tightening trigger finger, the Glock weighing heavy between both bloodstained hands until it exploded away from him in the discharge of a single bullet, near-invisible in the dark save for the brief red-hot muzzle flash and the faint gleam of light off the edge of this tiny thing speeding away from him with lethal intent.

And arrowing toward the floor just inches away from the heel of Dorcier’s foot.

Not a kill shot, not when Hannah was in the way, not when he would not risk her—but an effective one nonetheless.

Dorcier whipped toward him in a clumsy stumble, dancing back from the thuk of the bullet lodging in the floor so close to his shoe, letting out a garbled cry of something vituperative even as he lashed the Ruger out toward Seong-Jae.

Away from Hannah.

Run, Seong-Jae had said.

And Hannah ran.

Flailing her elbows back to jab at Dorcier while he was off-balance, his grip lax, she shoved away from him, a rebellious scream rising up from her throat in a terrified battle cry as she broke free in one desperate pull and lurched toward the emergency exit. The Ruger swung away from Seong-Jae as Dorcier reeled back about to try to grab at her, cursing, reaching for the trailing banner of her hair.

He never got the chance.

Not when Malcolm hit him like a fucking freight train.

Malcolm slammed into Dorcier from behind, moving with the grace and deadly power of a massive beast in complete control of its thickly muscled body, the raw strength of him flowing through every movement until Malcolm’s entire form became a steely, churning engine of fluid motion. His shoulder crashed into Dorcier’s spine, and Dorcier toppled forward—but before he could even think about righting himself, Malcolm snapped his arm around

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