Page 16 of How Much For A Broken Heart?

“Suicide? Friendly fire?”

“Do I look like I fucking care?” August snapped.

I shook myself out of the shock of seeing the woman with half her head missing. “This way,” I ordered.

He followed me as we retraced my steps. We came upon two guards, and I went into a fighting stance, but August was there, too, tackling the nearest one, relieving him of his gun and placing two bullets in his head, then two more in the one I was trying to subdue. Blood splattered on me, but I didn’t have time to worry as we made it out into the night air.

I sprinted for the wall, he kept up with me, the muscles in my legs burning with the sudden exertion, my arms pumping for added momentum. Reaching the wall, I didn’t hesitate. With adrenaline fueling my movements, I clambered up, my fingers finding holds others might miss, my boots kicking for purchase on the rough surface.

“Keeping the electric off for egress,” Cain advised. “We’re fucked at covert anyway.”

At the top, I swung my legs over and held out a hand, helping August climb as he left a trail of blood on the gray blocks, what was left of his shirt ripping on barbed wire when he couldn’t heave himself enough. Then, we dropped to the other side, rolling to absorb the impact. I was up in an instant, the promise of freedom a heartbeat away, but I’d landed right in the middle of a group of men. That was when the cold, unmistakable click of a gun’s hammer being pulled back froze me in my tracks.

“Hands where I can see them.” A cold voice broke the silence. “And will someone just do what Amos asked and get that fucking kid,” the man snarled, leveling a gun at my head. His expression was steely, unflinching. The crew around him headed out, all apart from him and one other.

“I’ve got them,” August muttered next to me, “run.” In that split second, the air crackled with tension, a silent standoff, and then, he pushed me to the ground, spun on his feet and with a crack that shattered the dawn’s fragile peace, he took down the nearest crew member, got his gun, and shot him between the eyes.

Fuck.

The man dropped, and I felt the hard knot of shock twist in my gut as August double-tapped to take the other crew guy down as well.

“Which way did they take her?” August asked, already turning to leave.

I took a moment to get my bearings, then gestured west. There was no time to think, to question. only to run.

The compound erupted into a cacophony of shouts and gunfire, bullets thumping into the ground around us.

Cain’s voice came through one last time, a curse that summed up the situation.

“Fuck,” he spat out in my ear.

And I knew that we were out of time.

August and I ran, our feet pounding on the ground, our breaths sharp in the cool morning air. The space between the chaos of the compound and the promise of the forest blurred past us. We were close to cover—just a few more strides, a few more seconds to catch the guys going after Luca—and we flanked them.

Agonizing pain ripped into my back, stealing my breath, my legs buckling beneath me. The ground rushed up to meet me, but I never felt the impact.

August’s face swam into view above me, his expression tight with concern. I could see his mouth moving, calling something, but the sound was distant, muffled by the ringing in my ears. His hands were on me, dragging me towards the shelter of nearby bushes.

The world dimmed at the edges, the vibrant colors of dawn fading to monochrome. I wanted to tell him to run, to leave me, to find Luca. But my lips wouldn’t form the words, my voice lost in the void rapidly claiming me.

August gripped me and pulled me into the cover of shadows, and his smoky gray eyes were the last thing I saw before everything went dark.

Chapter Six

AUGUST

I recognized the unmistakable grunt of pain and the thud of a body hitting the ground—sounds that were all too familiar. I spun around to see the guy who had been part of the rescue team crumpling to the dirt. “Shit,” I hissed under my breath, scanning for immediate threats.

My instincts screamed for me to keep moving, to find Annie and shield her with my life. But as I looked down at the fallen man, I couldn’t just leave him there. Not when he’d come to rescue Annie, and then me. I saw the telltale bulge of a vest under his clothes, a stroke of luck amidst the chaos, but he’d fallen badly, his face a mask of blood from a nasty gash, and he was out cold.

I crouched beside him, dragging him by the shoulders to a denser patch of underbrush. “Come on, buddy,” I muttered, trying to wake him. His pulse was there, strong under my fingers, a relief amidst the pounding of my own heart. I checked his gun, a standard-issue SIG Sauer, and patted him down for spare ammo. I was armed, but in this place, you could never have too much firepower.

He was heavy, and every second I spent here was a second when Diaz and his men could be closing in on Annie. But I couldn’t leave him. Not now. I felt for other injuries, making sure he wasn’t bleeding out. But as I worked, another part of my brain was ticking over the real problem: how to get us both out of this mess.

With a grunt, I heaved him up into a fireman’s carry. “You better thank me for this later,” I grumbled, the strain in my muscles a testament to the urgency and desperation of the situation.

I gave him a light shake, trying to rouse him, to get some help or at least a response. But he was a dead weight in my arms, a liability.

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