Page 135 of Perfect Cowboy

For myself.

And, most of all, for the man who is ready to sacrifice everything for me.

I’m just about to step out into the open and go all Scarface on their asses when a hand clamps over my mouth and yanks me backward, muffling my scream of protest.

No, no, no, no,no!

“Give me your gun and don’t fucking move,” Cameron says into my ear.

Chapter 34

Gavin

I’veneverhadagun aimed at me before, let alone five. I should probably be terrified, but I’m just numb and acting on autopilot. If I have any hope of surviving the night, I need to both outthink and outshoot them.

Before I have the chance to do either one, someone’s hand moves.

I don’t have the chance to think or speak or even breathe.

The crack of a rifle deafens me and throws me off balance, but I quickly drop to my knees and shoot back in quick succession. I’ve hunted game most of my life, but I don’t even have the chance to properly aim. It’s instinct. Reflex.

One,

Two,

Three.

They fall to the ground, but the crack of return fire sends another bullet my way.

I shoot back, but it’s too late. The shot connects and my shoulder is effectively hit with a sledgehammer. My arm turns to fire, the impact making me fly back and land with a hard thud in the cold, icy snow.

All I can think about is my blood painting the snow red and how I hope it isn’t Ashley who finds me.

I fumble for the gun that dropped from my hands, desperate to get hold of it and retaliate. If they kill me, they’ll go for Ashley or my parents next. Maybe both.

So I can’t die.

At least, not until the attackers die first.

More shots blast through the air, but there’s no new pain. Who is being hit if it isn’t me? And, more importantly, who is shooting?

So many bullets are being fired that the air is filled with smoke and the pungent scent of nitroglycerin. My shoulder and arm ache, but not as much as they should.

Maybe this is what it feels like to be dead.

Struggling to sit up, I catch sight of Cameron holding two guns. I can tell from here that one is the automatic I gave to Ashley, wanting it to be as easy as possible for her to use if the need arose.

Cameron aims at the last man standing and guilt overwhelms me that I suspected my best friend was the one to betray me.

But the truth isn’t much less painful.

Brad sneers at Cameron, making a face that I don’t recognize.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” Cameron demands.

I start to stand up, needing to help him, but he catches the movement out of the corner of his eye and shouts at me to stay where I am.

He has Ashley’s gun.

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