Page 74 of Darkness

But I aim, hoping for the best. If I get this wrong, it could end badly. I point, clench my eyes, and pull the damn trigger. Blood sprays over me as the lackey’s head is blown apart. He falls to the floor, and I bring my hand up to wipe my face. “Fucking hell. The things I do for you, Eva,” I murmur to myself.

I push away from the wall, but as I do, more of Andrés’s men file through the opening they created. It’s like an endless stream. There’s no damn way out of this.

We’re dying here today.

But if I’m going out, I’m going to try like hell to get to Andrés first.

I search the room. The fucker is sitting down with lackeys surrounding him like a human shield, helping himself to a drink at my fucking bar. He thinks this is a walk in the park. Well, I’m going to put this dog down.

With a steely determination, I head toward Andrés. A lackey moves closer, but before he fires, I shoot him in the eye. His body spins, then falls to the floor. Another rushes over, and I unload two rounds into his chest, but then three more surge forward.

Fuck.

I pull out a knife from its position in the back of my jeans. With a gun in one hand and a knife in the other, I steady my stance as they start circling. They aim their guns. I don’t know why they’re hesitating, so I lunge forward, slashing at one of them with the knife. It connects with his chest, slicing right through his torso. He groans as the other two make their move. I aim my gun at one of them and manage to shoot him as the other kicks out my knee, making me stumble, then pushes me toward the bar. The bullet ends up in the lackey’s arm. Another pins me, holding me down, and rips my gun from my hand. I fight against them, but it’s no use. My heart rate is so fucking rapid I can hardly breathe.

Andrés steps in front of me.

I curl my lip, staring at him while the fighting continues around the room.

“Leave this one for me,” Andrés instructs, pointing his gun at my head.

I tense as the lackeys let me go, then step aside.

My brothers around me fall, wounded or dead.

This is my fault.

Eva and Ivy will be taken and sold.

The blame lies squarely on my shoulders.

So, I look down the barrel of the bastard’s gun and accept my fate.

“Do it!”

Chapter Twenty-Six

NYCTO

Suddenly, the blasting of more weapons roars through the clubhouse, taking mine and Andrés’s attention. Andrés lowers his weapon as Hawk and the Miami brothers swarm in, shooting everything to high hell. Energy swarms through me as Andrés grumbles and glares at me, then takes off.

I need a gun.

Something to kill that fucker with.

Reaching around the bar, I search for the hidden Glock, checking it’s loaded.

My eyes meet Hawk’s, and he smirks. I dip my chin in thanks, then turn, taking off after Andrés. He runs toward the stairs to the lower bunker where the girls are located. Fear almost cripples me, but I won’t let it win. Instead, I run faster, putting all my energy into getting to him before he can do any damage.

My feet race down the stairs faster than I thought possible, my gun at the ready, but when I enter the lower bunker, the air is stripped from my lungs as a gunshots echo through the hall. All oxygen leaves me as I snap my head in that direction, hoping like hell I’m not too late. The girls are screaming their lungs out, and the thud of a body collapsing to the floor has my skin turning cold. I round the corner to see a woman on the ground, a single bullet wound to a mangled head of brown hair. Freya.

Instant relief hits me, which is a shitty emotion to feel when a member of your club is lying dead before you.

But it’s not Eva.

That’s all that matters.

Rushing down inside the Chamber, my eyes lock onto Eva, but I don’t have a second to run for her before she lashes out, racing for Andrés. His gun is still up from shooting Freya. Eva is screaming obscenities at him in her native tongue—“Tú maldito coño!”—while Trix and Stacey push Ivy behind them. Pepper is white as a sheet and can’t seem to take her eyes off Freya.

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