Page 15 of Bounty

He throws me a semi-automatic as I think about our next move.

“We’re gonna have to,” I concede, even though I hate the lack of coverage we’ll have that way. “The car is trapped in the garage.”

“What the fuck is going on?!” Wisteria screams. Her ears are probably ringing from the explosion.

“Watch your language,” I snap. “We have to get out of here alive, then I’ll explain.”

We move through the house, Wisteria sandwiched between us, careful not to trip over fragments of furniture. It seems the assailants used localized bombs that mostly impacted the front of the house and our bedroom, which were completely ruined. The curtains are on fire, and everything is destroyed.

Had I started dinner an hour later, Wisteria would be in there…with the door locked. Possibly too hurt to let us in. Or she could have died.

I see a metallic flash up ahead and the unmistakable outline of a male shooter near the garage door. Immediately, I shoot, causing his head to burst like a watermelon. Another shot pops off, and a second male shooter drops to the ground. How did they bypass our security?

“This is a coordinated attack,” Colin whispers, just as we reach the garage door. “They know this is our only exit and there’s more of them waiting in there for us…”

“Shit,” I huff.

“Do you have the car keys?” Wisteria whispers, her voice shaky.

“You’re not getting behind the wheel.” I’ve seen her driving this week—it’s a shit show—and she’s had two glasses of wine.

“Obviously, asshole. I’m suggesting we set the car alarm off. It could distract them enough to give us the upper hand.”

Colin and I lock eyes, a silent conversation passing between us. She has a point. They caught us off guard, but a loud, unexpected noise may be enough to pick a few of them off. Ihand her the keys, then show her what button to press to set off the alarm.

“On the count of three, you’re going to set off the alarm. Cain and I are going to bust through the door right after and we’ll call for you when it’s clear,” Colin explains.

She nods, looking to me for the signal.

“One…two…three!”

The alarm blares through the tiny space, growing louder after I kick in the door. I count four attackers initially, and we make quick work of dropping them. A fifth shooter comes out from behind the shelving unit at the far corner, but Colin manages to pick him off before he can aim his weapon.

“Wisteria!” I shout. She runs to the back seat, throwing herself in. Colin gets in the driver seat while I ride shotgun. We’re equal shots, but he’s by far the more creative driver.

We peel out of the garage door, and are greeted by two more shooters. They’ve all been dressed in head-to-toe black, some with ski masks and none of them have any visible tattoos showing, making it hard to link them to any particular group. They could be affiliated with anyone. I shoot both of them in the kneecaps.

Wisteria is oddly quiet in the back seat, spaced out as she stares out the window. She isn’t even blinking an eye at the deaths she witnessed at our hands.

Once we leave the one-way street she lived on and make it to the highway, Colin slows down.

“Who were they?” Wisteria asks. Her arms are crossed in front of her, her head still tilted toward the window.

Neither of us say anything just yet, mulling over what we can say that won’t make her ask more questions. Jude wanted us to tell her together.

“Don’t ignore my question!” she demands. She turns toward me, her bright violet eyes reflected through the rearview mirror.

I take a bottle of water out of the glovebox, then mix in a sedative from the emergency backpack I keep in the front passenger seat.

“Drink up, it’s important to stay hydrated,” I suggest, handing it to her.

She gulps down half the bottle, most likely because she’s stressed.

Wisteria starts to blink, then she yawns. “Tell me…” she breathes.

“Those are some dangerous people, my little flower,” Colin assures her in a gentle voice. He scowls at me, very aware of what I’ve done. “They’re part of the reason you’re coming home, where you’ll be safe.”

Tough shit, bro, my returning scowl says. I don’t want her to have a breakdown in the car. She’s been through enough and the next couple of days will send her life into a tailspin. This is the least I can do for her.

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