Page 75 of Worth

Zander grunts, slamming the magazine of his gun into place. “Don’t know.”

Someone opens fire behind us, and I can hear bullets ricocheting all around the kitchen. The shooting stops long enough for Zander and me to pop up, returning fire.

The big dumb oaf presses into the wall at just the right angle to escape being shot by either of us. “Get the girl,” his baritone voice vibrates as we drop back down when he shoots.

Zander and I exchange a look and then pop back up with a vengeance, riddling our home with bullets. All I can think about, as I watch flesh tear apart in front of me, is getting to my Kitten; to Zander’s baby girl; toourgirl.

I have to have faith that she’s learned enough to hold her own.

Because nobody wants what Zander and I will do to this world if she’s harmed—or worse.

Chapter 25

Of course, the first time I’m ever in an ambush, I’m wearing nothing but a shirt. I’m not even wearing underwear. I’ve got zero protection from giving the ambushers a show.

It doesn’t stop me. I dart past the stairs, heading for the coat closet. There’re no guns—Zander wouldn’t let Aiden tell me where they hid them—but there are other weapons in there, at least.

I yank the door open and jump in, closing it behind me with as much control as I can so it doesn’t slam. I don’t wait, flipping on the light and taking in my options, while chaos keeps playing out. I scan everything hung on the walls and stacked on the floors in the tight space. I don’t know how to use most of these things. It’s not exactly like Aiden gave me lessons in how to use nunchucks. I seriously wonder ifheeven knows how to use them.

Snatching up a switchblade, I clip it onto the collar of my shirt, which makes the shirt pull forward. I pick up the bat that’s wrapped in barbed wire with large spikes. That looks like it’ll hurt and, by the weight of it, it feels like it’ll hurt too.

Perfect.

I turn the light off and press my ear to the door, listening. Gunshots are still firing at an impressive rate, but it doesn’t sound anywhere near me. I ease the door open, peeking out into the living room. When I don’t see anyone, I step out on high alert, gripping the bat with both hands.

I check the entire room and find no one lurking. I’m about to move further into the house when I hear footsteps thumping down the stairs. Ducking back against the wall next to where the staircase empties out, I wait.

As a man dressed in a camo uniform comes into view, I swing, channeling every bit of power I have into the hit. He screams as the spikes imbed in his face, caught so off guard that he hadn’t even tried to block it. I rip it away and see blood surge from the wounds in an arc as I do. I swing again, this time forcing my momentum up, into his chin and neck, as he screeches about his face.

Camo Man gurgles as he crashes to his knees, grasping at his neck as blood drains down his front. With another swing of my bat to the back of the head, he goes down and remains lifeless as his blood puddles around him.

Power surges through me, the high of my adrenaline making my skin buzz. I guess its official—I’m fucked in the head. Three dead bodies and I don’t feel a single bit of remorse for having taken their lives.

In fact, I feel pride.

Before I have time to gloat, a second man in all black surges forward from the other side of the stairs, catching me off guard. I don’t lift the bat enough to get a hit, fighting to pull it out of Camo Man’s head, but do hit his leg. He hisses a curse as he jumps out of the way, giving me a chance to raise the bat again.

I swing and he ducks, charging toward me as I try to pull the bat back fast enough. Dancing on my toes, I spin out of the way before he can tackle me, letting him trip over Camo Man’s body.

While he’s crawling to his feet, I heft the bat and swing, imbedding it into his back. He screams as he falls flat on his front, and I notice the spike that had gone right through his spine as I pull it free. I don’t waste any time smashing into his skull twice before I’m satisfied that he’s dead, his right foot twitching.

A flurry of gunshots ring out from the kitchen again as I check around me, looking for any other intruders, and then the entire house goes silent.

Creeping forward, I move toward the kitchen; the bat lifted over my shoulder and ready to swing at a moment’s notice. Glass crunches ahead of me and I freeze, listening so intently that I’m damn near giving myself a headache.

A figure speeds around the corner, and I swing hard, letting out a shout. The bat slams into the wall as it just misses Aiden. He eyes the bat as I tug it out of the wall, clutching his chest as he pants.

“Fuck, Kitten,” he groans. “That was fucking sexy.” He looks past me at Camo Man and the other guy on the floor and grins. “My Kitten’s got claws.”

I snort. “Are there any more people?”

“No,” Zander answers, appearing from the kitchen and tucking away a gun. To say he looks pissed is putting it lightly. “At least not yet.”

Aiden walks past me and crouches down, poking Camo Man in the side. I spy the two pistols in his waistband. “They’re private, not government,” he murmurs. “More will come, and soon.”

“Blake,” Zander snaps, drawing my attention back to him. “Go get dressed now.”

For once, I decide to not argue with him and comply, stepping toward the stairs with the bat still in hand. I’m snatched up by my wrist and pulled, which spins me back around into Zander’s chest. I avoid smacking him with the bat as his other hand seizes my throat, his mouth crashing down on mine.

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