Page 48 of Thunder

A deep breath to prepare was all she allowed herself before she struck. No way was she getting shot in the face by a woman who had made her life hell and was using her to get to someone else.

Her kick was powerful and well placed, hitting Tracey in the upper thigh. Causing her to drop like a sack of potatoes with a scream of pain. The gun clattering to the floor with a unique sound she wouldn’t soon forget.

Sadly, Tracey wasn’t the only one to go down. Without her arms for balance, Andy went down too. She heard another unique sound. That of her own head connecting with the floor.

A pop she now recognized as a silenced gunshot sounded as her vision swam. Thunder was on his knees in front of her and calling her name. Running his hands over her body and messing with the tape around her wrists.

“Babe, talk to me, are you hurt?” Andy couldn’t understand. Everything sounded underwater. She recognized this feeling. It was like listening in on a conversation or watching a scene on TV.

“Shit, Bob. You just took out your own.” That was Styx.

“Petty was never my people. She was going to kill her, I couldn’t let her take out Phantom property.” That must’ve been the skinny dude.

“Is she alright?” Granite, maybe.

“No blood, so I… Styx, was she fine before?”

“Yeah, she was the picture of health and composure. That is, until you all but told that bitch to shoot her. Your girl was fucking pissed. Hell of a fucking kick, though. Remind me to never piss her off.”

Andy almost smiled at Styx’s compliment until she processed her first words. Thunder wanted her shot? Damn it, why is everything fuzzy?

“Water, you’re under… water, and fuzzy.” Thunder was suddenly gone, and she was being lifted into the air. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t focus on the face of the person who held her. The harder she tried, the more out of focus it all became.

“Shit,” mystery man said. “Prez, I’m taking the shield. Andy needs the ER. She could have a concussion.”

“Taps?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me. I’ve got you. We’re going for a little ride. You can relax, but I need you to stay awake, okay?”

Yes, that made sense. You should stay awake with a concussion. She’d had one before, and that sounded right.

“Give her to me, Taps. I’ll take her. She’s my ol’ lady, not yours.” She felt her body shift as Taps turned.

“Really, brother? Is that why we come through the door to you just shrugging while Petty held a gun to her fucking head?”

“I was setting that bitch up, waiting until she lost it and I could take my shot. I was about to draw when Andy went all Roadhouse on her.” Thunder sounded wounded, but she didn’t know why. She just wanted to sleep. A little nap wouldn’t hurt. She was just drifting off when Taps’ concerned voice cut through the fog.

“Andy, wake the fuck up. I’m not playing, sweetheart. You stay awake or I’ll do whatever it takes to wake you.” His voice was concerned but also filled with humor. A low growl rumbled through the air.

“Taps, that’s my ol’ lady you’re talking to.”No.

“Not, ol’ lady. Taps, hospital.” She was fading into sleep, but she knew she had to get to the hospital.

“There’s your answer, asshole. I’m taking Andy to the hospital to get checked out. You can make yourself useful here, I’m sure.”

She was spun around again, with a soft apology from Taps. The night air hit her skin and felt refreshing. The words, Andy, I love you, floated behind her. It had to be a concussion because there was no way it could’ve been Thunder. Wishful thinking was apparently her new reality.

Taps held her in his arms all the way to the hospital, playing trivia the whole way. Every so often Blast, who was driving, would pipe in and answer for her. To which Taps would scold him.

The two men in the car with her were good men. Taps was funny and witty with a soft heart. Blast was a bit stoic but caring. Maybe if she’d just found that spark with him that night, or even went inside and met Taps first, her heart wouldn’t feel so heavy.

Why did it feel heavy? Her head hurt like hell and she knew there’d been—her thoughts were cut off when her stomach protested.

“Shit, Blast, she’s tossing her cookies.” Taps turned her head and she vomited all over his boots. That just made her head hurt worse.

She started crying. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart, these are old as dirt.” He held her hair back even though nothing else happened. She must’ve fallen asleep because her next memory was being laid on a gurney and the nurses holding both Blast and Taps back saying family only.

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