Page 30 of Throttle

“Guess that explains why it hurts so bad.” I shudder, the sight of the blood seeping through my blouse making me dizzy.

“I’m gonna get you to the hospital, baby. Just give me a minute, okay?”

I nod and raise my hand to the wound on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Like I could ever do that.

He’s intense and filled with energy, and I wonder if he’s experiencing some kind of adrenaline surge. I hope it’s enough for him to get us out of here because I can sense myself fading fast. I cough into my hand, feeling wetness coat my skin. When I examine my palm, I see speckles of blood.

“Fuck, Sienna!” Throttle clenches his fists in his hair as he struggles to keep it together.

I prop my head back against the wall, rapidly blinking in an attempt to clear my blurry vision. I hope I’m hallucinating as I see two figures enter the building on the other side of the large, open space. It isn’t until they’re closing in that I’m able to distinguish they’re both males I don’t recognize.

My eyes widen with fear. “Throttle!” I shriek, tapping his arm weakly. He notices the distraught expression on my face and immediately spins around.

The men charge at us, their guns aimed in our direction. I’m wondering how Throttle is going to fight them off without a weapon when he grabs two handfuls of loose dirt from the ground. He waits for them to get closer, then slings the sandy grime at their faces. The men halt, coughing as dust fills their lungs.

Throttle capitalizes on their momentary incapacitation and throws a hard punch at the man on the left. His head whips back and Throttle knocks the gun from his hand, where it skates across the ground and stops by my foot. Throttle attacks the men, landing punishing blows as they stumble around disoriented and struggling to see.

I stare down at the weapon, a sick curiosity rushing through me at the thought of how many people have been killed with it. These thugs have no regard for human life.

Are they proud of what they’ve done? All the people they’ve hurt and lives they’ve ruined?

They should pay for their crimes and the pain they’ve inflicted on undeserving victims. And I want to see it when it happens.

I glance up to find Throttle still battling both men, his gaze fierce and steady. He’s a different person now, one who’s killed before and is prepared to do it again. He’s aggressive and wild, proving Venom was right to have him protecting me. I should be afraid of a man like this, a man who can deliver pain to anyone he deems deserving of it. But instead, I’m turned on and fall in love with him a little more.

The men now circling Throttle seem to have forgotten about me, so I slowly back away. But Throttle tracks me from the corner of his eye, and I still my movements, not wanting to distract him. The stockier man approaches him from behind, but Throttle surprises him when his leg shoots back, kicking the man in the gut and making him howl and double over. The taller, skinnier guy is still armed and lunges forward, but Throttle wrestles his weapon away before landing a swift uppercut that sends the man hurtling backward.

Throttle’s on him in an instant, throwing blow after blow, his strikes never letting up. The man is staggering across the ground, attempting punches that only connect with air, indicating his vision is still compromised from the dirt. Throttle repeatedly pelts our attacker’s sides, his heavy fist almost certainly fracturing a rib and definitely knocking the wind from his lungs. The guy groans as his legs give out and he falls to his knees.

The first man has recovered enough to reach for his partner’s gun. But Throttle acts quickly, hefting the bastard up before shifting the guy’s lean frame in front of his own body like a shield. The shorter man fires, but it’s his partner who takes the bullets when they disappear inside his chest and he lies limp against Throttle. Creating a distraction, Throttle hurls the dead thug at his partner, who flails as he tries to dodge the lifeless body. That’s when Throttle charges him, ripping the gun away and knocking the man to the ground as he stumbles over the corpse.

Our attacker’s eyes are wild and crazed as his panic soars while Throttle stands over him, gun aimed at his head. My heart hammers in my chest, knowing Throttle is wounded after being shot at, involved in a crash, and fighting off two assailants. It may just be a graze but it’s bad; yet the adrenaline pumping through his body has given him superhuman strength, and he stalks around ready to shed more blood.

I can’t breathe as I watch, my body turning cold and my vision blurring while blood continues to seep from my wounds. My head grows heavy and my knees buckle when I crumple to the ground, no longer able to stand. Throttle’s head whips in my direction and Tony’s man seizes the opportunity to tackle him, knocking the gun away and punching at the wound in his shoulder. Throttle roars in pain, and my heart clenches when I see him hurt, wishing I could protect him like he has protected me.

God, please let us get out of this alive. At least him, if not me.

Fighting through the pain, Throttle strikes back with a sharp jab to the man’s mouth. He spits blood on the ground before wiping his busted lip with the back of his hand. When Throttle attempts another punch, the stocky man squats low, kicking the side of Throttle’s knee.

“Fuck!” Throttle yells as he stumbles back. “I’m gonna enjoy it when I fucking kill you. You piece of shit.”

“I’m gonna kill you first,” the man taunts, a deranged smile on his face when he glances over at me. “And then I’m gonna kill her. But not until I’ve had some fun. And we both know she’s gonna like it.” He spits at Throttle, the bloody saliva landing at his feet. “Ain’t that right, bitch?”

A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of this man anywhere near me.

Throttle’s lips curve into a cruel grin. “I’m not worried about whatever plans you got brewing up in your fucked-up head. You’re not making it out of this place alive.”

And then, they’re at each other again, landing punches, one after the next. Blood splatters and skin splits with each connection of their fists. But neither stops, both having more stamina than I would’ve imagined. My eyes can’t keep up with their movements as my strength continues fading by the second.

I’m gonna die here, and I didn’t get the chance to tell him I love him.

I hear choked gagging and look up to see Tony’s man with his thick arm around Throttle’s neck. I gasp and the sharp intake of breath shoots pain through my body. But I push through it, knowing I have to do something, anything to help him.

I search the area, my gaze darting around when I spot one of the guns a few feet away. I crawl toward it, the sensations excruciating as my muscles beg me to be still. When I’m finally within arm’s reach, I stretch out my hand, feeling the familiar cold of the steel. I’ve held a gun before, when I was learning self-defense, but this one is heavier than the one I used. Or maybe I’m just weak, because the weapon feels almost impossible to lift. But I’m running out of time and I have to do something before it’s too late.

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