Page 55 of Wicked Duty
Hawk Nose curls his lip and fires, but I’ve already hit the floor and rolled, dodging the bullet that whizzes overhead. The window shatters as I dive around the corner.
The jackass keeps shooting.
On any other night, I’d save us all the hassle and shoot the guy. But I’d rather drag his sorry ass and whatever’s left of his friends back to the Kings for interrogation.
With the right persuasion, they might share information that could help me keep Lucy safe.
If he continues shooting, though, he may leave me no choice.
Sitting upright, I pull out my own gun and aim.
Heavy footsteps announce Hawk Nose’s approach as he enters the hallway. The metallic click is music to my ears.
He’s out of ammunition.
“Shit!” Hawk Nose pulls the trigger again as panic darkens his eyes.
Gotcha.
The bullet I fire at his leg rips through his thigh. With a shriek, he collapses.
Number three.
Fishing my phone from my pocket, I call Darren.
“It’s me. Three more for pickup.”
I methodically restrain the Russians and drag them into Lucy’s apartment to wait.
Chapter 21
Callum
Once I finish searching Lucy’s apartment, I drive my bike back to the hotel and park. If not for nabbing those three bastards who broke in, the whole trip would’ve been a big waste of time.
My head’s clearer, but my body aches in multiple places, and I definitely collected a few scrapes that could use some TLC.
Right now, the only thing on my mind is that wallet.
Shane keeps riding my ass about finding the damn thing, and Viktor Roguilin is willing to abduct and potentially harm, even kill, Lucy over it. Underhanded or not, the safest option is to remove the wallet from her possession.
Unfortunately, I still know absolutely nothing regarding its whereabouts. Lucy hasn’t said anything to indicate she’s even sitting on something this massive, and my latest apartment search was a bust.
By the time I return to our suite, part of me is wondering whether the thing even exists.
I rub my head and check the time. I should try to sleep. It’s almost four in the morning, and I usually wake up by six or seven. But I’m too wired. My entire body buzzes with residual adrenaline.
What I need is a hard fuck. Since that’s out of the question, I’d settle for a long shower, but the bathroom’s in Lucy’s bedroom.
Instead, I head for the half bath and settle for sponging off.
After scrubbing the easily accessible parts of my body with soap and water and dirtying more than one towel, I dress my cuts and bruises from tonight’s brawl. Nothing life-threatening. Just a few scratches and scrapes on my hands and arms from broken glass.
I’m about to hit the couch when a cry from Lucy’s room sends me barreling toward her door. I burst inside, heart slamming against my ribs.
She’s thrashing around under the covers, sobbing in her sleep.
A cold wave of relief douses my worry, allowing my pulse to settle. There’s no danger. She’s just caught in the middle of a nightmare.
