Page 83 of Fight for You
“Brody needs cover.”
“Copy,” Enzo said.
“Get inside,bràthair.” I clapped Brody’s arms. “Protect them. Ready?”
Gritting his teeth, he nodded.
Enzo and I opened fire on Chelomey’s men, buying Brody the time he needed to sprint a few yards across the deck and into the open cabin sliders.
Jordyn’s screams came from inside. God, please let Mam and Brody have that angle covered. I’d counted my bullets with each squeeze. Nine shots discharged. Six left. “We gotta get up that hill. Bullet count?”
“Five,” he muttered while the cabin exploded with noise behind us—more shattered glass, more of Jordyn’s screams, more exchanged gunfire.
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t have time to focus on the love of my life.
I picked up a fluffy throw pillow from the chair in front of me. Threw it up and away. A hail of bullets filled the air. A greater amount of cotton than I extracted from Carly’s teddy bear surrounded me as I crawled on elbows to Enzo near the deck’s edge.
“Need to get to that tree line.” Enzo maintained a crouched position behind the pit. “You ready,fra?”
Nae! I’d never be ready to have shots flying at my rear. “Yep.” I offered, demeanor calm, adrenaline keyed up. I glanced up the hill. A bullet whizzed past me. Pressed against the firepit, I fired blindly, my arm and muscle memory guiding the shot. Looked again. Blood soaked into the snow-covered ground near the head of a man in white tactical gear. “One down.”
“Smile. This could be fun.” Enzo patted my shoulder. “My turn.”
Bullets riddled the air when he took a quick peek up the hill. Enzo glanced again. Exchanged a single shot. “One and one. After we grab those sweet guns they left for us, let’s continue to count our kill shots,fra?”
“Sure. Let’s push for the trees. Now. Now.”
We vaulted off the deck, boots crunching into icy snow, zigzagging through the trees to make it difficult for the shooters. My heart pounded in my chest. A warning. I’d gone farther away from Jordyn. I led. Enzo covered the rear, shooting anything that moved.
Needed to get to cover.
Snow sprayed like mist as bullets tore through the powder. These guys lacked the training of the team Aleksandr sent to my house. These must’ve been his own, not hired. Not professional. The tactical gear they wore blended into the snowy atmosphere made me think otherwise. Now, I knew better.
I clipped one man, trying to flank us with a bullet to his shoulder. He dropped his weapon as he fell to the ground. He cussed in Russian before my Glock met his forehead. Aye, the Bratva’s own men. Vicious up-close, not nearly half as deadly behind a gun.
I pulled the trigger. Took his Ruger. “I’ve got one bullet in the chamber. You want this one?” I held out the gun.
Enzo shook his head. “Nah. Your trophy. One-two. Next one’s mine.”
We moved like ghosts through the tree line. Enzo now fisted the weapon of another dead stiff. Bullets tore through the bark around us.
“We’re surrounded,” I growled. “At least six. One’s covering the back trail. Two on the ridge.”
“Listen, we gotta get that sniper?—”
“I saw the glint.” I ducked behind a pine. “They’re flanking.” The men were trying to get around us.
Another round rang out. The sniper. Well, he must’ve been cherishing those bullets. And he must’ve shifted. Higher up. A better vantage point to the house. The men on the hill were a diversion—here for us.
The sniper was for my family and must be eliminated. I hoped Mam or Brody would give me a sign if they needed help in the cabin.
32
BIG BEAR
Jordyn
Days Free: 3
