Page 68 of Consequences
More alarms start to ring out as something else is tossed into my room.
Roman races to the door, but doesn't make it before the incendiary device explodes.
Throwing myself onto the ground, I ignore the sharp pain traveling through my chest, and the pressure in my lower back can't be good, but fuck if I can care about that right now.
Boston crawls over to lay on top of me, her training and instincts kicking in.
“Roman!”
“Fine,” he calls back. “You?”
“Fucking hell, Boston. Get off my lungs.” I try to wiggle out from under her, and she somehow manages to get heavier. Fucking dog.
“We need to move,” Roman says.
“No shit.”
I can hear him moving around, but don't dare move in case I piss off the ninety-pound, overprotective German Shepherd that's currently crushing my insides.
“Boston, stand by,” Roman orders with a click of his fingers.
She whines but he clicks again, and slowly, she climbs off me. Roman reaches down and helps me off the floor. Gritting my teeth, I try not to flinch as he touches me. Normally, I don't mind it when it's Roman’s hands on me, but the seriousness of the situation has my nerves shot to hell.
When I'm back in my chair, I can see that Roman is bleeding from gashes on his cheek, arm, and side.
“You're not okay.”
He coughs and rolls his eyes. “I'm fine enough to get us both out of here. Or do you want to wait until they send more than a fucking smoke bomb through the window?”
Before I can respond, the door to my bedroom flies open and Tennant rushes in. “Are you hurt?”
“Just my pride,” Roman says.
“And his side. Think some shrapnel got him.”
Tennant opens his mouth to respond, but the whole house shakes and Boston starts barking again, turning her attention back to the window.
“I need to carry you,” Tennant says. “We need to get out of here, fast.”
I narrow my eyes but don't argue, knowing in this instance I can be a liability. Nodding my head once, I call Boston's attention to me, hoping she trusts Tennant enough that, even in this high stress situation, she doesn't try to eat him.
Boston growls when Tennant steps forward, but doesn't make a move, so I call that a win. He scoops me up and I close my eyes, trying to block out the feeling of someone touching me.
“Grab my chair,” I tell Roman.
“If we have to abandon it…”
“I know,” I snap, close to losing what little control I have left as Tennant strides out of the room. “But I refuse to not try.”
The four of us hurry through the halls, and it's weird to hear and see nothing except smoke and the distant sound of more explosives being thrown at the house.
“What's going on, Ten?” Roman asks.
“I don't know. We're under attack, but who's responsible is a mystery, as they seem to prefer setting us on fire over anything.”
Tennant’s hands tighten a little on me, his only sign of anger at the situation, as his voice stays level. “There was a delay in the alarms, someone must have fucked with them. And they managed to take the outside guards out without being discovered.”
The house shakes again as we get to the stairs and Tennant stumbles, almost dropping me.
