Page 107 of Callum

Why are the GiGi’s fighting the Romans?

Dodge finally wrests the knife from my hand, and I turn my attention back to him. He’s holding the knife like an amateur. The hilt is gripped in his palm with the blade facing straight up, making my next move an easy choice. I slam my palm into his elbow as hard as possible, directing the blade straight into the soft part of his opposite shoulder.

“Fuck!” He screams, releasing his hold on the knife. It stays lodged in his shoulder, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His attention is now entirely focused on his hands wrapped around my neck.

Dodge squeezes, cutting off my oxygen with startling completeness. I can’t even try to breathe.

He’s going to crush my windpipe.

My nails dig into his forearms as I try to buck him off my waist, but he’s sitting too high. I can’t get any leverage, and I start to panic. My mind floods with images of my life, every man who wronged me, laughing at my inability to defend myself against a man. Again. Over and over, I’ve failed to protect myself. I’ve failed to protect my loved ones. I’ve failed at everything in this life, and now I’m going to die at the hands of this man who isn’t worth the mud he’s pushing me into.

Darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision as my heart hammers in my ears. I hear something that sounds like my name, but I think it’s in my head. Someone screams near me, but I can’t see them. I can’t do anything but look into the eyes of the man taking everything from me.

A flash of light catches my attention, and a thought begins to work its way through my head. It’s slow-moving, fighting against the molasses of my brain without oxygen, but it’s there. It takes too long to make sense of what my brain demands that I hear.

The knife.

Thirty-One: Timing is Everything

CALLUM

Rosalind lunges at Dodge, and I’m on my feet and through the tree line before the two of them hit the ground.

Several of my brothers yell my name through the comm, but I ignore them. My eyes remain locked on Dodge and Rosalind, fighting on the ground just behind the Crown Vic. They roll out of sight, and my heart nearly stops in my chest.

I’m so focused on trying to see them that I don’t realize I’m no longer alone on the hill.

A man’s body comes into view half a second before he slams into my side, and we crash to the ground. It only takes a moment for me to get my hands around his neck, snapping his head to the side.

“What the fuck, Grant!” I snap into my comm, anger boiling in my veins as I try to spot Rosalind’s body behind the old gold car in the middle of the clearing. I see a flash of Red as she and Dodge roll over one another again. She’s still alive.

“A little busy, brother,” Grant bites back. I hear another shot ring through the air, forcing my attention to the north, where the clearing has become an active war zone. The GiGi’s appear to have turned on the Romans, their long hair and lightning-quick movements clashing with the stocky Roman Soldiers.

I hear the distinct sound of Grant’s sniper mixing with Lachlan’s M16 as they pick men off one by one. Not wanting to stick around for the moment Maddock starts launching grenades into the fray, I resume my descent down the hill.

This time, I watch for people breaking out of the crowd. I shoot two Soldiers in the head before they can get to me, but have to stop at the bottom of the hill to hide behind a truck when someone starts shooting in my direction. An explosion rocks the ground beneath my feet, and I cover my ears a moment too late.

After several seconds of complete silence, Grant gives me the all-clear. I roll away from the truck to run toward the gold Crown Victoria.

A scream splits through the air when I’m a handful of steps from the car, and I can’t stop myself from yelling Rosalind’s name in return. When a second scream comes on the heels of my shout, I realize the sound is coming from the GiGi’s. The Roman Soldiers have them outnumbered, and I see several of the GiGi’s go down in quick succession.

Then, the head of the Roman closest to Ginetta explodes.

I skid to a stop, staring at the man as his lifeless body drops to the ground.

“Fuck!”

Grant’s angry shout comes at the same time that I demand, “Where?” My eyes swing to the tree line on the opposite side of the clearing.

There’s a second sniper.

Another Roman drops right as he’s about to shoot a GiGi, the bullet landing squarely between his eyes.

“Callum, move!” Grant commands and I hear a shot ring out behind me. Lurching forward, I sprint toward the back of the Crown Vic, sliding around the trunk just in time to see Dodge’s body drop next to Rosalind.

She sucks in harsh breaths, eyes wild as she looks into the darkened sky. There’s a knife clutched in one blood-soaked hand, but she appears to be uninjured. My knees nearly give out on my way toward her, and I drop to the ground next to her head, my hands floating between us but not touching anything in particular.

“You’re okay, kitten,” I promise, gently placing my fingers over her hand where it’s still clutching the knife. Rosalind’s eyes snap to mine, but she doesn’t drop the blade. We watch each other for a moment before a second explosion echoes through the clearing. The sound seems to snap Rosalind back into herself, and she sits bolt upright.

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