Page 16 of Tell Me

13

BROOKS

Camille started screaming before we reached the pillar I was aiming for, and I turned just in time to see one of my father’s men yanking her backward by her hair.

She was scratching and clawing at him, refusing to go down, and I knew her next move: She’d turn and kick him straight in the balls, sending him to the floor with a scream of his own.

I didn’t have time for that, though, because other men were going to get to us before she had time to take the first guy out. We might be able to fight two to three of them off, but I was out of bullets and the only weapons she had were here nails. I slid my hand down my leg, found the dagger I’d always sheathed on my inner thigh, and pulled it up in one smooth move. No pause. Just throw.

I didn’t even see the thing until it was buried in the man’s neck, blood spurting out around it. He staggered back and very stupidly jerked the knife out of his neck, which meant even more blood. I didn’t wait to see him go down. My hand was already on Camille’s arm, jerking her around and dragging her after me.

The door was in my sights, now, and I wasn’t stopping until we got there. Nothing had gone to plan down here—nothing—but I wasn’t going to let New Orleans take me out in some stupid brawl in the catacombs between Boudreaux and Landry men. I had bigger things to take care of.

Like getting back to New York before everything went sideways for my friends. I didn’t know how long I’d been down here but it was too long, and so far New Orleans hadn’t come through for me with the army I needed. I’d thought Lucien might be the answer, for a moment, but he was obviously too busy in territorial battles to help.

I needed someone else. Dear Old Dad was out. Lucien was out. Who else did I know well enough to go to in this fucking city?

Not that it would matter if I didn’t get out of this room.

I doubled down and pushed my body to go even faster, ignoring the bullets flying around us and the screams of the men they were hitting. If the sounds were anything to go by, the Boudreaux had spotted the Landry soldiers running after us and were taking them out before they could get to shelter. Explosions and shouts filled the room, the heat of the constant gunfire bringing a layer of moisture out on my forehead. God, we needed to get out of here. These two crews were going to slaughter each other to the last man.

Which meant Lucien would most likely go down.

The thought made me stutter and nearly stop, my brain snagging on the thought and nearly breaking in two.

Whatever was going on here, Lucien and his men were nailed down against a wall, and though they sounded like they were taking each and every Landry out, that didn’t mean they were going to live. It just meant they’d still be kicking when the next Landry crew got here.

Shit. What the fuck was going on with my heart that I even cared? Lucien was ancient history. Sure, I’d been in love with him once and positive I was going to marry him and have a nice, happy New Orleans life, but that was ten years ago. Since then, I’d grown up and become New York Brooks, who had it all together and always knew who to call if you had a problem. Hell, I was the person you called if you had a problem.

And when I had a problem, Lucien had been the first person I thought of.

Okay, I might not have admitted it to myself at the time, but that didn’t change the truth of it. I’d gone to Anthony to find out what was going on, and when he couldn’t help me, I’d thought of the only man who had never actually let me down.

The man I’d run from, just because he couldn’t convince me he was actually on my side and not my father’s.

Lucien was the reason I’d come home. He was the one I wanted to count on. The one I didn’t think would let me down.

He always had been.

I stopped so sharply that Camille ran right into me and spun us both, my gaze scanning the room until I found where the Boudreaux were pinned down between one crumbling wall and another. There were still fifteen of them at least, each of them with a gun aimed at my father’s men and shooting as quickly as they could.

Only I couldn’t see Lucien with them. He wasn’t shooting. He wasn’t covered by the wall.

My heart, which had already been walking a very fine line, shattered into a million pieces at the thought.

And then a body hit me from the left and sent me flying toward the door of the chamber, its arms around me and its hands tucking my head against its chest as we flew.

14

LUCIEN

I tucked her against me, molding my body around hers so that I would be the one to hit the cold, hard stone rather than her. When we landed, it was on my bad shoulder, because of course it was, but I took the brunt of it, rolling as quickly as I could to take advantage of our momentum. When the world stopped turning we were only inches from the door, and I quickly spun us twice more through the opening, praying we’d get through without any bullets hitting us.

Once we were on the other side, the stone around us muffling the sound of the shooting still going on, I scrambled to my feet and dragged her up.

“Camille,” she huffed, pulling against me.

“Daniel has her,” I returned quickly. “He was right on my heels.”

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