Page 6 of Montana Falls
“What are you doing?” Maddox asked, his hand firmly locked with Hades, who was now wearing his hoody to hide mostof her bloodstains as she kept quiet and her eyes mostly shut to keep away the sight of the mess.
Not that I blamed her. What with the bits of her mother, still splattered on her face, despite how much Maddox had quickly tried to wipe her clean with a damp cloth.
I was glad she’d helped us with her fire things, but was also glad she was quiet.
If she was quiet, I could push off the inevitable blame she would no doubt place on me for her mama’s death.
“We are going to fight. You are going to go out the back door and run far away. When you get somewhere safe, then you call me and that’s it. We will get you. And you don’t speak to anyone else until you talk to me; not even your other family.” I ordered as I checked how many bullets were in my gun and made my way towards their backdoor, the kids following as Ares saved my phone number. “Do you have a place in mind that you can get to quickly?”
Beni nodded first, only a little shaky on his feet but otherwise seeming fine with his bumped head. I had a bunch of questions for him about what happened with Widow and Delilah, but that would have to wait until we weren’t all about to die. It was yet another thing added to my list of infuriating occurrences in London.
I was never coming back to this stupid city. Ever. I hoped the entire fucking place got set on fire like it was 1666 again and everybody left it for far better places to be.
Like a beach. Or a mountain or a damn desert.
“The mosque my family goes to is less than two miles away - the imam will let us in regardless of all the blood and stuff, and we’ll be safe there until you can get us,” Beni said.
“Okay.” I ushered them all outside, faking the most confident smile I could. “Run and don’t stop - we’ll sort this. All of it. You worry for nothing but getting safe.”
Two seconds later, all four children were gone; hopped over the fence, running through gardens and the rain without a care for their openly displayed weapons.
They were gone, and the rest of us?
The rest of us were stuck.
Stuck like little pigs, waiting for the big bad wolf to blow down the walls and slaughter us all.
It was just a shame for him that I had decided to pull on my imaginary red cloak and prepare to cut him to pieces instead.
Chapter Two
My men were staring at me when I returned to the main room, each one waiting for the next part of my idea that I hadn’t even thought of yet. Luckily for me, I didn’t have time to pretend to have more of a plan than run outside and try to murder people. Unluckily for us, it was because John finally decided he was bored with waiting.
“I think-” I was barely a foot away from Lincoln, the others behind him, when bullets rained down on us through the window.
Glass shattered; vases exploded. The TV and pictures on the wall opposite were ruined and decorated the floor that we had all dived on to with only a single scream of pain. One I quickly realized belonged to Logan, who was grabbing his side even as he shuffled along the ground to a better hiding spot, trailing drops of blood behind him.
“Logan?!” I yelled his name as I crawled toward him. No care for the glass digging into my palms or if I was in more danger the closer I got to the window.
“I’m fine!” He fell back against the couch, hiding behind it as he touched his fingers to just below his ribs. “Just a scratch!”
Lincoln was right beside me, following as I kept moving forward, needing to see the wound myself to make sure Logan wasn’t about to die. But as I did, another round of gunfire rained through the window, and I yelped as I was shot in the face the same time I was damn near crushed.
The bullet was close. Too close. I felt it slide across my cheekbone, leaving a burning line in its wake. The only reason I wasn’t dead – wasn’t looking just like Shannon OMalley - was the infuriatingly perfect man beside me.
Or on top of me, that should have been, seeing as Lincoln had shoved me to the ground and covered my body with his.
“You just saved me again.” I whispered in his ear, as the bullets stopped, and the world went silent for the tensest of seconds. “You keep putting yourself in danger for me, bunny.”
“And you can suck my dick later as a thank you.” He grinned a wickedly devilish sort of grin that instantly made me forget all about him defying my earlier orders. “Right now, we have to fight. So get your fine ass up.” He yanked me to my feet but hid us both behind the nearest wall, only taking a second to look at my cheek and determine my wound wasn’t going to kill me.
Scar? Probably. But fuck it. Scars didn’t bother me, and they were better than being dead. Plus, if I whined about one tiny little mark on my face, then how the fuck could I ever expect Henley to listen to me and be confident again, when I insisted she was still just as beautiful now as she had been before JamesfuckingMercer got his filthy hands on her?
“Everyone okay?” I called out, but nobody needed to answer. Each of my men crawled or dragged their asses to me,and aside from Logan and various glass scratches, there were no injuries.
Thank fuck for English houses being made of bricks and not the cardboard nonsense American ones were built from. If we had been in a house back home, we would have all been dead.Easily.
Logan lifted his hand with only the slightest wince, yanking the bag of stuff he’d found upstairs with him as Misha looked at his side, confirming it was just a scratch. A few inches long and probably needing stitches, sort of scratch, but something minor, all things considered.
