Page 47 of Bad for Me

No, stop it, Cari. Focus on the present. Stay alive.

Minutes blurred together as I waited, my muscles cramping, but I didn’t dare move. Heavy footsteps thudded up the stairs, and the door to the bedroom creaked when it opened.

I huddled in the corner of the closet, wishing the clothes that hung down provided better cover, clutching the gun to my chest, as the gunfire came to an abrupt halt.

The footsteps left the room.

Shit.

Where were Gavin and my stepfather? I waited anxiously.

No, better to get caught downstairs than up here, when the bad guys, whoever the fuck they were, decided to search the house more thoroughly.

I stood and thumbed the safety off. When I was sure no one waited for me outside, I cracked open the closet door, then slipped out.

My bare feet were silent on the hardwood floors. The house was empty, but lightning flashed outside in the storm.

I peered out the kitchen window, doing my best to stay hidden. I needn’t have bothered. My stepfather and Gavin argued with two men, their shouts muffled by the tempest.

Steps thudded behind me. “What do we have here?” Hands wrapped around my waist, and I screamed, whipping around in the man’s arms. He tried to snatch the gun out of my hands, and I pulled the trigger. The bang scared the shit out of me, and I screamed in terror, as he fell away from me, collapsing on the ground with a grunt.

Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod.

When I peered through the window, the men’s attention had turned toward the house.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

The disagreement between my stepfather and our visitors turned heated, with hands waving in the air.

The man on the ground groaned, then staggered to his feet.

No.

Shit.

No!

I raised the gun, my arms trembling in fear and loathing, then pulled the trigger again. He collapsed, and I dashed out out the door, plastered myself against the wooden side of the cabin, ignoring the rain pelting down over me as my chest heaved with terror.

Two men were approaching from behind, guns out and aimed at my lovers.

My hands shaking so badly I could barely hold the gun, but determined, I looked through the sight and aimed. Shoot to kill, I repeated to myself, and squeezed the trigger.

One of the men jerked to the side. Fierce pride filled me.

My stepfather’s eyes flicked to me, took in my posture, and then drew his gun. His eyes widened, and a bullet flew over my shoulder, thudding into the man I’d shot earlier. Aiden and Gavin worked together, a symphony of movement, and by the time they were done, they were the only men left standing.

My men ran toward me, water sluicing over their bare torsos. They shoved the door open and took me in their arms, stroking softly over me, inspecting me for injuries.

“Princess, are you okay?”

“Areyou?” I touched them frantically, dragging my hands over their bodies, needing the reassurance that they were fine, that they hadn’t been injured.

My stepfather grabbed my hands in his and held them to his chest.

“We’re fine, baby girl. But you?—”

Ohmygod I just killed a man.The realization slammed through me, weakening my knees until the only thing that held me upright was the firm grip of the two men who held me between them.

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