Page 64 of Forbidden Cravings

I jogged back over to her. My knees had taken the brunt of my fall and were aching from the impact. I was certain bruises would form soon.

Handing the gun to Angie, I noted how it shook in her hand. “Remember who you are, Angie. You’re the daughter of Vince Donelli, and you just pulverized a man.”

“Yeah,” she murmured, the glaze on her eyes fading. “That’s what he gets for being mean to me.”

I would have laughed, but the sound of gunshots erupted. Turning, I ran, leaving her there and knowing my time was up. Rounding the corner, I shot a guy heading toward the hangar door in the head. He collapsed as I spotted two others who had been running toward the hangar but had stopped short with my involvement. My shot tore through the neck of the first guy and, as the other aimed at me, I rolled to the ground, getting tworounds off. The second one hit him in his chest and knocked him over.

“That was a bad move, you stupid cunt.” I looked up to find a gun pointed down at me. I’d been reckless once again. This time not checking my surroundings and assuming all the men were heading into the hangar to join the fight. This one looked like the type to play with his prey, a fact he validated by grabbing me by the neck and hoisting me up.

“I really don’t like that word,” I muttered, wondering if these guys had any other words in their vocabulary.

“Drop the fucking gun or I’ll kill you now.”

“And if I drop it?”

“I’ll have some fun with you first and then kill you.”

“Don’t you need to join your buddies in there?” I asked, stalling and hoping he would slip and remove the gun from my head.

“They’ve got it covered. Besides, I prefer to be a lone wolf, and you look like a delicious meal.”

Lone wolf? That didn’t make me feel any better. Bad Omen were dangerous, but one who turned his back on his family had to be homicidal because they had a reputation for what they did to traitors that stemmed all the way back to the turf wars.

I dropped the gun, my mind whirring through my options as he turned and dragged me by the neck away from the hangar. Guns were still going, but the volume of shots had decreased, and I prayed that meant my guys were winning.

My fingers were struggling to free my neck from the strangling grip he had on it when a shot cracked through my frantic thoughts and he stumbled, his hand slipping. I broke free as he swiveled around, trying to raise his gun. Blood seeped from the hole in his back where a bullet had pierced it. And tucked in his waistband was another gun. Sloppy but fortuitous. I grabbed it and shot before he could react. His body jerked, but he lookedlike he wanted to turn around and so I put another two rounds into him. He slumped to the ground, his gun hitting it before his body did.

Gun in her shaking hand, Angie stood across from me, no longer looking as fragile or as psychotic. She dropped the gun, looking down at her hands just as the gunfire ceased. My chest clenched so tight with fear that I didn’t know if I could function well enough to make it to the hangar door.

Nodding at Angie, I forced myself to run, coming up short at the open door and closing my eyes to steady myself before I allowed myself to look in, the vision of seeing my brother or Mason dead so vivid in my mind that it threatened to swallow me whole.

Chapter Twenty-One

MASON

Adrenaline thrummed through me. Bodies layered the hangar, mostly Bad Omen, but they had downed two of my men and injured another. The ache in my shoulder reminded me of its presence now that the fight was over. I signaled to Breck and two others to check for danger outside the hanger and was rolling the tension from my neck when a flash of auburn curls captured my attention. I lowered my gun and heard Tyson’s sigh of relief as Casey’s hazel eyes wiped the remainder of my stress away.

She dropped her gun and ran to me, cussing Tyson out as she fussed over my wound. She was like a firecracker, her mouth laced with so many profanities even my ears were burning. I pulled her to me, silencing her with a kiss and ignoring Tyson’s complaints.

“You bastard,” she muttered between kisses. “I thought you were dead.” Her voice cracked, and I pushed her back, wincing with my arm’s movement.

“I’m fine, princess.”

“Princess?” Tyson grumbled, taking her from me and holding her in a bear hug that looked like it left her breathless. I wanted to make a joke about me being the only one who couldleave her like that, but the situation had me too distracted. My pilot handed me a towel for my gunshot wound, talking about a hospital when Breck and the other two men returned from outside the hangar, dragging Angie with them.

“All the Omens are dead, boss. And we found this one hiding around the corner.”

“Get your dirty hands off me.”

“Good job. How many did you take out?” I asked, ignoring Angie’s complaints. The bitch was the last thing any of us needed to deal with right now.

“We didn’t,” he replied, scratching his head. “They were already dead. Four of them.”

I looked at Angie, confused at how the spoiled woman in front of us could have pulled that off without any of us noticing.

“Don’t look at me, although those sexy eyes of yours can undress me anytime.” She pushed her hair back, trying to look sexy. I didn’t want to break it to her that she had blood splattered all over her, some of which was still plastered on her face.

“Always the little slut,” Tyson muttered.

---