Page 137 of Ruthless Reign

“Don’t think,” Hardin said gruffly. “Just shoot.”

Aodhán and Kaleb came bursting out of the counselor’s office just as the Sons rounded the corner. I couldn’t tell how many there were. More than us. So much more.

“Move,” the command coming from Aodhán’s lips broke through the momentary panic, ungluing my feet from the floor. I shifted, planting my back against the wall inside the office just as they started firing.

Kaleb and Aodhán and Hardin fired back.

Fuck.

Come on, Becks.

I threw myself from my hiding place and shot the first Son I laid eyes on. Not a headshot. Not even a kill shot, but he went down all the same, and Aodhán finished him for me with a perfectly placed bullet between the eyes.

The Sons stopped before fully rounding the corner and were peeking around it in intervals to return fire. I did the same, resuming my position behind the wall, peering out every few seconds to see if there was an opening for a shot.

I saw the grenade on Hardin’s belt as he fired off two more shots, and I grabbed it.

His black eyes snapped to me—to the grenade in my hand.

“Do it.”

Pulling the zip was like touching an exposed wire. The lethal danger of it shocked me like an electrical current plugged straight into my chest.

“Fuck, Hawk, throw it!”

Shit.

I hucked the thing in the general direction of the Sons as Hardin shouted. “Down!”

I felt the explosion like a quake that traveled all the way up my knees and rolled over me like a blast of wind. Bits of plaster and busted tile rained over us, and I coughed as I breathed in the dust.

“Push in!” Aodhán called through the haze, and I moved toward the sound of his voice with Hardin tight on my heels.

As the dust started to clear and I saw…

My stomach revolted at the image. The blood. The…bits.

I pushed down the urge to vomit as I caught up to Aodhán, who was planting bullets into the skulls of any still-living Sons like tiny seeds of mercy that saw the pain in their eyes extinguished.

We stepped past the bodies, pushing forward, toward the gym.

I caught movement in my peripheral and shifted just in time to see a legless Son lifting his weapon with a wordless moan. Aodhán had missed one.

I didn’t think. I just fired.

Kaleb stopped in his tracks and spun, seeing my smoking barrel and the dead Son.

“Good catch, Vixen,” he said, and I felt a tug in my chest. “Now stay tight and stay low. On my six, okay? Hardin’s got yours.”

“Okay. Got it.”

“You’re doing great, love,” Aodhán said, taking up the lead, tossing me a wink over his shoulder.

I almost smiled. Until I saw a Son push out of a classroom ahead, covered in what I assumed was the blood of the Sinners who were in there.

He was massive. Over six feet tall with shoulders so wide they had to be pumped full of steroids.

Aodhán saw my look and whipped his head back, but he was too late. The giant Son got his gun up and fired. But so did I.

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