Page 101 of Nikolai (Kansas City Reapers)

The fucker must have literally jumped off the damn roof. I saw him through the windows of his vehicle, crouching on the far side of his still-open driver’s door with his rifle — the one I had idiotically dropped on the ground in my haste to get to Maddy — perched on the edge of the window between shards of broken glass.

The shooter in the SUV ducked out of sight for a moment, likely both to avoid fire and to reload his weapon. As I watched, he peeked carefully back out, preparing to take aim and resume the barrage of bullets he was sending our way. “No, you fucking don’t,” I heard Quinn growl from his crouched position as he once again took aim.

The sound of that single shot resounded through the air like thunder from a clear sky, like the vengeful fury of some long-forgotten god. This time, Quinn didn’t miss.The shot landed right between the guy’s eyes, dropping him like a dead weight. Part of me was immediately relieved, even while another part of me, a part that was deeper and more primal, seethed with unsatisfied rage that I had not been the one to personally eliminate the man who dared threaten my woman.

I kept firing, roaring defiance as I emptied my clip towards the SUV, knowing it likely wouldn’t hit but not caring. Even if a stray bullet had somehow landed, it would just leave more dents in the obviously armored vehicle.

The driver must have reached across and pushed the dead man fully out of the SUV before pulling the door closed. Moments later, he pealed out of there with a squeal of tires and a cloud of dust and sped off down the road.

But not before Quinn got one last shot off. This round hit the back tire, and the SUV nearly spun out of control before the driver found balance and sped off down the road.

Seconds passed.

Maybe minutes?

I couldn’t tell anymore. The only thing that marked the passage of time was the pounding of my racing heart thrumming in my ears so loudly I could scarcely hear anything else.

“Quinn? You good?” I called out, still crouching down behind the front of my vehicle. I thanked God, or rather Carrick, for convincing me to level up the SUV with armored plating and bullet-proof windows. That had just saved our damn asses.

“I’m good. I’m good. Let’s get out of here,” he called out from behind his now bullet-hole-peppered squad car.

Keeping my eyes trained on my surroundings, I rounded the side of the SUV to where Maddy was still hiding.

“Maddy, let’s go.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but it came out as a biting command. I couldn’t take the time to worry about her feelings right now. Right now, all that mattered was getting her the fuck out of there and making sure she was safe.

She scooted her way out from under the SUV, blood trickling down her face.

I saw red. Anger swirled inside of me like a caged beast, forcing his release out into the world.

Pushing those feelings as far deep down inside of me as I could, I relied on my military training to get me through. I reached down, grabbed her by the arm, and helped her to her feet. I threw open the back door of the SUV, quickly helping her inside — more like shoving, if I was being honest. There was no time for patience or gentleness. I needed to get her safe, even if that meant literally pushing her into the backseat and slamming the door behind her.

I jumped into the driver’s seat only a moment after Quinn shut the passenger door and turned the key, hearing the engine rumble to life. I threw it into reverse and backed down the driveway, looking over my shoulder through the now partially obstructed back window. The glass had done its job, stopping any bullets from getting through, but it had sustained quite a few shots and wasnow cracked and splintered in many places. It would definitely have to be replaced.

There was no way in hell I was going to let Quinn stay at the scene, not that he appeared to want to. His car was basically nothing more than Swiss cheese, and I wasn’t about to leave a man behind on his own. Who knew if they would come back for round two or not? We weren’t about to find out, though.

“Jesus fucking H. Christ, what the fuck was that?” Quinn panted out, his breath matching my own.

“You hurt?” I asked him, noticing the blood splatter on the front of his shirt.

“No, it’s the sniper’s blood. That was one hell of a shot. Thank you, brother.”

I just nodded, unable to find the words to continue. My body hurt, my chest ached, and I could barely catch my breath. And through it all, I could not handle being apart from Maddy. Sure, she was safe in the back of the car. I knew that. But it wasn’t enough. I needed to touch her, to feel her with my hands, to hear her breath with my own ears, to reassure myself she was alive and okay. The blood trickling down her face as I looked at her through the rear-view mirror made my own blood boil, my hands white-knuckling the steering wheel to the point that I was genuinely afraid I’d break the damn thing.

Quinn pulled his phone out, hitting a few buttons and holding it to his ear.

“Damn it, pick up!” he snarled, pulling the phone back down and redialing.

“What’s going on?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure if I even wanted the answer.

“It’s Theresa. She was supposed to be the person protecting Maddy at the new safe house.”

“She wasn’t there.”

“I fucking know that, Niko,” he snapped. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “Sorry. This just isn’t adding up.”

He held the phone to his ear, this time leaving a short, almost staccato voicemail for the woman before hanging up, instructing her to call him ASAP.

“She was supposed to meet me there at the safe house shortly after we arrived. I need to get through to her and tell her to steer clear.” He tossed his phone up onto the dash, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in agitated frustration. “If I had just…” he trailed off.

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