Page 110 of Forbidden Bond

Strat grabbed a gun from his waistband and threw open his door. “Go!”

Her butt hadn’t left the seat when the first gunshot echoed. Didn’t take long for her to hit the asphalt after that. Another shot followed, and another. Glass shattered and scattered, she heard every sliver hit the ground and sheltered her head.

How many assailants were there? And why was she leaving Strat to the battle? On her hands and knees, she crawled on the ground to reach in for the gun in the glove box. Scooping out the clips, she stayed low.

Damn, she should’ve practiced at a range. Guns had always been a part of her life, she’d just never been interested in honing her aim.

“Shit,” Strat said. Another shot, and another. “Fuck!”

“Strat!”

That sounded like pain. No, she couldn’t—Strat couldn’t lose his life. Her friend was hunkered down behind his door, dumpster providing some cover. The window above him was gone. The next shot hit the windshield. Strat returned fire, around his door, and through the window space.

“Give us the girl!”

The girl? Is that what she’d been reduced to? Fuck that. Gun in hand, she couldn’t just cower.

“Suck it, Byrne,” Strat called back. “Want her? Come get her!”

More shots, her side, theirs, her friend, the enemy. God, her heart hammered, and it wasn’t fear, not for her life. Slamming her door, she reached the front tire when there was another shot, then silence. This felt different than before. Different to—no more shots, quiet, footsteps.

“Scamp.”

Above her, Strat grabbed her arm to haul her up and pull her around to the trunk.

“What happened?”

“We’re moving now.”

He opened the trunk to pull out a bag and—

“Shit, you’re bleeding.” A bloom of red on his sleeve tightened her chest. “Oh my God, what—”

He thrust one bag at her and collected up the clips scattered on the ground. Not only hadn’t she got a shot off, she’d dropped their ammo too.

Pushing her down, he put her in a crouch. “Stay here.” He paused to show a hand again. “I fucking mean it. I will tie you up and toss you in the trunk if I have to.” Her boyfriend wouldn’t like that treatment, yet she smiled as tears gathered in her eyes. “Don’t start that shit.”

Stomping off, he went around the hood. She peeked up to watch him check the other vehicle. Where were the guys? Did they just leave? Was there—boosting a little higher, she saw the body on the ground, one at the door, a leg at the back suggested there was another.

When Strat turned to come back, she ducked down, returning to the same position he’d left her in.

“Can’t follow instructions for shit, girl,” Strat said as he passed their hood. “Fucking move.”

Leaping up, still holding the bag, her friend had another, its strap cut across his torso as he reloaded his gun.

“We should get you to the hospital.”

“Hospitals ask questions.”

Yes, they did, but he was her friend. Her friend who’d killed for her.

“The mansion then,” she said, “the doc will be there.”

“Doc has his hands full.” They went to the end of the alley, to a dark parking lot she hadn’t known was there. “We get you safe first.”

“You’re bleeding. Bleeding takes precedence over—”

Her friend stopped and raised a fist. “You hear that?”

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