Page 176 of Deceit

That would be asinine.

He might have a small chance of making it out alive, but he’d be an idiot not to try.

I disregard the lighter fluid, running with a flame isn’t going to work out the way I want, and I can use it fucking later when I tie him up in the back of my truck. If he thinks I’m going to take him out in the middle of the woods, he’s wrong.

Armageddon faithfully follows me as I see the blue of Mills’s shirt about thirty yards away.

I haul back on my cord, aiming down with one eye when the piercing of wood breaks off the tree a few feet from me.

A bullet.

I round the nearest one and hunch down, taking cover and waiting for any snapping of sticks or foreign noises.

I hear it, and now I’m intrigued.

Maybe Mills wasn’t on the phone with anyone on B723 because if he had, my cell would be going off the hook right now.

With my hand, I gesture Armeggedon to lie down so I can focus on who’s out here with me trying to save Prince Charming.

I pull back on my arrow and peek around to see if I can locate anyone.

“Not looking to hurt you, friend,” a male voice reassures me. “Just need to make sure he has a head start.”

Who in the fuck is this?

The voice doesn’t sound familiar, and I highly doubt some random asshole came in after us with a gun and a good shot.

Unless he didn’t miss on purpose.

Rising with the cover of the tree still, I begin to lean over, but another bullet hits the trunk right next to where my head would’ve been.

“Stay right there,” he orders.

Um, yeah, no.

I come out from my forest shield and locate a dude about as tall as me with a buzz cut and dark facial hair. His steroid-out muscles protrude from his black t-shirt as he stands there as if he’s waiting for me. No longer is his gun aimed, and he regards me with curiosity.

“You’re the big bad wolf, huh?” I perk a brow because, again, who the fuck is this? He glances down at his wrist that has a watch wrapped around it. “You’re only stuck with me for about forty-five more seconds, chief.”

“Call me one more fucking name, ass clown, and you’re going to know what it feels like to have your heart pierced.”

He smirks. “Charming.”

Yeah, fuck this asshole.

As I’ve done a million other times in a hasty scenario, I raise my weapon and shoot, watching it pierce through his thigh.

He only looks d own at it. “And a dickhead.”

“Who are you?” I pull my Glock out, ready to end this shithead and figure out what and how I’m going to get Mills alone again.

“Doesn’t matter,” he deadpans.

Hoisting my gun, he does the same, and I haul on the trigger, moving to the side to not get hit by his.

I see him flinch back, alluding that he’s been hit again as he blows off three shots and begins to retreat.

I return my whole clip, frustrated and devastated when I hear Armageddon whine.

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