Page 48 of Jameson: Mayhem Makers

I stood, crossing my arms over my chest. “And how would we explain that to my dad?”

Her brows furrowed. “I don’t fucking care, that’s your problem!”

“Look, you’re lucky I’m letting you go,” I argued back, my patience gone. I pointed my finger at her. “The rest is on you.”

“I don’t even know where the hell I am, and I doubt you brought my car with you, so how am I supposed to do anything?”

“Not my problem,” I said, ready to get the fuck out of there. I stormed past her. “Good luck.”

She growled in frustration. “Ugh, I fucking hate you.”

I threw her the middle finger over my shoulder. “Join the fucking club.”

I was about to grab the doorknob when I heard several cars pull up. My blood ran cold. Could Miguel’s men really havefound us that fast? We were out in the middle of the desert, and I made sure no on had followed me.

Lucia came after me, shouting, “You can’t just fucking le—”

“Shhh!” I held a hand up. “Someone’s here, and I don’t think they’re here for me.”

“Fuck,” she whispered. “What do we do?”

I glanced over my shoulder at her. The fear in her eyes made my chest tighten. “Go in the bedroom and lock the door. Don’t come out no matter what you hear, okay?”

Her eyes filled with tears as she nodded. “But what about you?”

The fact that she cared to ask made me feel better about the whole situation. I took out my two pistols from their holsters and held them up. “I’ll be fine. Now go.”

Lucia listened, going back into the bedroom. As I heard the lock click, the front door handle jiggled. “Just give us the girl, and we’ll let you live.”

Over my dead body. I clicked the safeties off both guns, flipped the dining table on its side for cover, then crouched behind it.

A few seconds later, the door went flying off the hinges, and two men entered. They weren’t Forsaken, so I shot them both several times before they fell to the ground. Three more entered, and I was able to take two of them down before one got me in the shoulder.

“Fuck!” I gritted out, quickly ducking down behind the table. Two more men followed, and we exchanged gunfire as the one who shot me tried to get into the bedroom.

I took the last two out as the other man got into the room. Lucia screamed, and I rushed into the room as he was cornering her.

I didn’t want to risk shooting her, so I charged, tackling him just as he turned around to shoot at me. We wrestled over the gun, and I was able to turn it on him before it went off.

“Oh my God, Jameson!” Lucia cried out.

“I’m okay,” I said, pushing myself up to my knees with my good arm.

She ran over to me, crying as she knelt beside me and threw her arms around my shoulders.

I hugged her with my uninjured arm, wincing from the throbbing pain in my shoulder. Pulling back, she kissed me. “You saved me.”

I searched her eyes, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t going to let them take you.”

She kissed me again, and I hissed when she put her hand on my shoulder. “Oh my God, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing, I’ll be fine,” I replied.

Her eyes ran over my body. “Jameson, your leg is bleeding, too.”

I furrowed my brows, looking down at my legs. Sure enough, I had a gunshot wound near the hip of my left leg. Thank God it missed my femoral. “Huh. I can’t believe I didn’t feel that.”

“We have to get you to a hospital,” she said.

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