Page 52 of Cinnamon Cider Whiskey
“Not going to happen.” Pete held her tight in front of his body. Quickly, he stretched out his arm.
Bang!
Bang!
Cinnamon screamed.
Austin dropped to his knees, gripping his right thigh. “Fuck. That hurt.” His teeth rattled. His muscle felt as though someone had stuffed a grenade inside it and pulled the pin.
“She’s next if anyone comes closer,” Pete said. “I won’t hesitate.”
“I’ve got a clean shot,” someone came over the comms system.
“Last chance to put down your weapon,” Belmont said.
Pete took a step toward the SUV. “We’re getting in the vehicle and driving away. You’re not going to follow us, or she’s dead. It’s that simple.”
“If you still have the shot, take it,” Belmont whispered.
Bang!
Austin glanced up from his position on the dirt.
Pete fell to the ground. His gun tumbled from his grasp.
Cinnamon took one look at him before taking off running in the direction of Austin.
“I need to stop the bleeding.” Brad ripped off his shirt and tied it around Austin’s leg. “Did the second shot get you?”
“I don’t believe so, but don’t you think one is enough,” Austin said through gritted teeth.
Brad laughed.
“It’s not funny, man.” Austin lay back on the hard ground.
“Austin!” Cinnamon stumbled, landing next to him. “Oh my God. Someone call an ambulance.”
“Already on the way,” Brad said. “He’s tough. He’ll be fine.”
“I’m seeing stars, so I’m not so sure about that.” Austin blinked. The sharp pain had turned into an intense throb. “Are you okay?” He took Cinnamon’s hand. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m fine.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m not sure I’ll be needing a divorce anymore though.”
Austin chuckled, but it quickly turned into a cough. “I shouldn’t laugh at that.”
“I should feel bad, but I kind of don’t.”
“He murdered people in cold blood,” Brad said. “He held you at gunpoint and shot at your boyfriend. I think it’s okay to feel relief that this is all behind you.”
Sirens rang out in the distance.
Austin stared at the sky. His vision blurred. “This is going to suck.”
“What is?” Cinnamon asked.
“Being laid up. Unable to work.” He lifted his head. “I don’t think I’ll be able to move into the apartment above the bunkhouse.”
She bent over and kissed his lips. “You’re going to need someone to take care of you for a little while and it’s the least I can do, considering you did take a bullet for me, literally.”
