Page 30 of The High Priestess

The images start to flash through my mind, and I clench my jaw while tightening my grip on the steering wheel.

After blowing his brains out, I shove the fucker off my sister. She’s skinny as fuck, giving me the impression they starved her.

My eyes lock on hers, and seeing no life in her sky-blue irises, I stagger a step backward.

“Veronica,” I groan before I dart forward. I press my palm to the side of her face and lean over her. “Ronnie?”

I know she’s gone, that I’m too late, but I can’t stop myself from calling out to her.

Movement catches my eye, and as I straighten up, the fucker who just entered the room reaches for his gun. I don’t think twice as I open fire on him, and when they keep coming, I keep killing.

When the last motherfucker falls, I trudge through the blood and bodies to get to where Ronnie is lying on a filthy single bed.

Slinging the machine gun over my shoulder, I use a tattered sheet and wrap it around her body. Lifting my baby sister's lifeless body into my arms, I turn to leave when more men pour into the room.

With Ronnie in my arms, I can’t get to my gun quick enough. They’ll kill me before I manage to set her down.

One of them lets out a whistle while he looks at the dead bodies, then he asks, “You did all of this on your own?”

When I only stare at him, he slowly lifts his arms in a sign of peace. “We’ve come for one of our women who were taken.” His eyes touch on Ronnie. “Yours?”

I nod.

His features tighten, and his eyes tear up. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He shakes his head. “That’s brutal, man.”

I know.

He stares at me for a moment, then asks, “What are you going to do?”

I shake my head, unable to force a word past the pain that’s devouring me alive.

“My name is Santiago. You’re welcome to come with me. I have a safe place nearby.”

“Knight?”

The sound of Cassia’s voice drags me out of the darkness, and I shake my head lightly.

When I take in our surroundings, it’s to notice I’ve stopped the golf cart outside the hospital.

Shit, I zoned out while driving.

Turning my head, I look at Cassia and see a worried expression on her way too pale face.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

Climbing out of the cart, I nod. I walk around the front and reach the passenger side as she gets out. I bend my knees and scoop her into my arms.

“I can walk,” she argues with a weak voice.

“No, you can’t,” I mutter. “You took four bullets, in case you forgot.”

I expect her to argue more, but instead, I feel the side of her head press against my shoulder. Glancing down, it’s to see the stubborn woman has passed out again.

“You’re too proud for your own good,” I grumble under my breath.

Jasmine, the nurse, is the first to notice us, her eyes widening as she exclaims, “Is she okay?”

“Of course not.” I stalk to Cassia’s room and place her on the neat bed. When the nurse comes rushing into the room to hook Cassia up to an IV again, I leave to get a blanket from the storage room.

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