Page 108 of Hunted, Season Three

Do I rush at him and risk mine?

Take the gamble that Little November will fire before something can happen to me?

That they can patch me up later?

Maybe it’ll be fatal, but at least The Kid and Bunny and our son will live.

At least they’ll be safe.

At least they’ll live on.

Have each other.

“November…” calmly escapes as I prepare to execute the plan.

“Affirmative,” he states, clearly aware of what I’m planning to do.“On your mark.”

“N-” is surprisingly all that escapes.

Rapid, aimless gunfire, unpredictably rips through the morning sky, clipping trees.

Posts.

Abandoned tools.

But…not a single person.

The noise successfully distracts the adversary, which Rabbit doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of.

One harsh headbutt backwards catches the man off guard causing him to release her and stumble backwards.Her swift dive out of the way presents November with the perfect chance to execute a kill shot.

And he does.

Completely unphased by the commotion, he unloads a single bullet into the side of the male’s head, instantly dropping him to the ground.

“I’ll insure the threat is secure,” he proclaims at the same time he cautiously approaches what I’m pretty sure is a dead body.“Evaluate our target.”

“Our girl,” Kid airily corrects during his rush cover.

“Our woman,” I echo, my steps as speedy as his.

Our frantic and feral motions don’t cease despite the slippery patches.

Or the slush piles from where the ice has started to melt.

Or the frozen animal shit that crunches loudly under our boots.

No.

Nothing stops us from getting to her and falling to our knees the instant she’s within reach.

“You good, Rabbit?!”Paranoid patting is attached to my aggressive visual searching.“You shot?!Baby shot?!Anything broken?!”

Kid’s hands promptly recheck all the areas I just finished.“You okay, baby?!”His scanning is just as panicked as mine.“You feel okay?!Our baby okay?!You gonna be okay?!”

She lovingly places an ice-cold palm on each of our cheeks to aid in her reassurance.“I’m okay.” Her fingers sweetly flex, and it’s impossible not to momentarily lean into them.“We’re.Okay.”

“Thankfuck,” is grittily grumbled.

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