Page 93 of Hidden But Not Safe

Naz lurched forward, kicking it before the man could pull the trigger. The bullet meant for him rushed down the hall to slam through the door of the room he’d shared with Meg.

Her scream flooded his veins with ice.

“Meg!” he cried, starting toward the room, but the headbutted jerk had recovered enough to slam him into the wall again.

The voices in his mind told him he had already failed. She was already dead.

He jabbed the cartel member in the throat, straining to hear anything over his thudding heart and the man’s strangled cries.

Meg’s shout cut through the bullshit in his head. “Don’t worry about me!”

Naz dropped for his gun, rolling into the man scrabbling at his neck and bringing him down to the floor with him. He shot him from that angle, the bullet tearing up through the man’s chin and spraying the wall behind him with blood and brain matter.

The last man on the ground brought his wobbling gun back around to Naz, squeezing the trigger again. It skimmed close enough to Naz’s head to cause pain to explode in his ear, adding to the ringing.

His vision dimmed, making his kick wild, but the man lost his grip on the gun.

Naz lifted his own, but he shot past the man, sinking a bullet into the chest of another cartel member breaching the door. The body slumped over as Naz tried to blink and focus.

The man’s hand almost made it to his gun. Naz blew a finger off that one, too, before shooting him in the goddamn face.

He emptied his last four bullets toward the front door. Another cartel member took three to the chest, and the fourth slammed into the shoulder of the guy behind him. That asshole jerked back, out of sight again.

Naz dropped his empty gun, rolling to grab the one covered in the man’s blood instead. He shot toward the front door, nearly emptying the gun. He didn’t hit anyone, but it gave him a minute to catch his breath.

His fucking ear hurt like a bitch, whatever was left of it. All he could hear from that side was the laughter of the voices in his head. His infected wound was also aching with pain, making him dizzy.

Down the hall, the door to their room started to open.

“Meg, no!” Naz called, pushing to his feet.

The door froze, still mostly shut. He couldn’t see her. He wanted to see her one last time, but it was better this way. She was safer.

“Ignacio Tores!”

He had no idea who had shouted his name, but if they were shouting inside, that meant they weren’t coming in themselves.

“Get out here and we’ll let the girl live!”

Naz stared at the bodies bleeding into the carpet as the taunting in his head quieted.

“Don’t go!” Meg begged through the bedroom door.

He really wished he could have seen her again. He held her image in his mind, the one of her body curled into his as she smiled into his neck. The memory of her giggle filled his mind, bringing both the calm he needed and a twisting inside his chest.

Movement near the busted-in door had him shooting, but he didn’t think he hit anyone, just made them more cautious again. He dropped the second emptied gun.

Crouching near the body with the blown-out head increased the ache in his side. He tucked the gun he found into his waistband, suddenly glad for the too-tight shorts, and found another on the next body. A quick scan of the corpses didn’t show any signs of movement.

There were probably more guns, but the cartel members outside would expect him to delay. Quicker was better. He’d take more of them out if he was quick.

“Please don’t go,” Meg said. The door to the bedroom started to open again.

“Love you, Meg,” Naz said, not looking back as he ran for the busted front door.

He heard a scream behind him, one that echoed in his mind. The usual taunting voices shut up, as if shocked into silence by his recklessness.

Naz tried to shoot the man in the suit first. He was probably the one who had shouted, the one in charge.

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