Page 122 of Forbidden Romeo

“Jack-”

As she tries to protest, the machine gun stops firing completely, and the unmistakable click of the reload reverberates around us.

“Run. Now!”

Aimee, thankfully, scrambles to her feet and takes off across the rooftop while I turn to face our attackers.

The sound of the helicopter propellers this close is almost deafening, and I have to force myself not to shield my eyes as I take aim at the open side. Three men, all in black, stand around the gun, loading it up expertly.

Bang.The shot misses entirely, but the pilot notices me and tries to move them away from my line of fire. I aim at his window.

Bang.The bullet barely dents the glass. Fuck. I return my attack on the men I can actually hit.

Bang.This time, I hit one of them in the arm, and he staggers back.

I glance over my shoulder. Aimee is already by the door. I begin my own retreat.

Bang. Bang.Neither shot lands its mark, and I watch as one of the men slams the final compartment of the gun closed.

Double fuck.

I turn around and sprint.

The machine gun splutters to life; the chamber rotates slowly at first, then rips around faster and faster. I’m only a few feet away from the door now. I can see Aimee’s panicked look as she watches in horror.

A spray of bullets follows my feet, and I leap at the last moment through the door. Aimee slams it shut, and I’m insanely grateful it’s made of solid metal when we hear the bullets ricochet off the other side.

“Did you get hit?” Aimee says, a few octaves higher than normal.

I check myself over just to be sure. There have been a few times in my career when the adrenaline has kept the pain away, and I can’t afford to be bleeding out right now.

“No.”

Aimee punches me in the arm. “Don’t you dare do that to me again!”

I shoot her a crooked grin that probably levels my nerves more than hers. “We’re not out of this yet. Come on.”

I take her hand, and we begin our descent. The stairway is dimly lit and square, making each corner we take more nerve-wracking than the last. We must be halfway down when we hear the gunfire.

We duck instantly. I gesture to Aimee to stay put as I quietly reload. Before she can stop me, I lurch forward and out of cover.

Two men are coming up the stairs, a floor below us. Both are dressed head to toe in non-descript black, the same as the men on the roof.

Bang.The first goes down. The second sees me and starts firing off, but I duck easily and start descending the stairs in a crouch. When I turn the next corner, the second man is right in front of me, still shooting at where I’d been a moment earlier.

Bang.The second man goes down.

Just as I feel the barrel of a gun pressing into the back of my neck.

Bang!

I flinch, but the pain doesn’t come. Slowly, I turn around to find a third man slumping to my feet. A few stairs up, Aimee holds a smoking gun. Her face is completely expressionless.

She shakes herself off and begins moving again. “You need to watch your back, Duffy.”

“Where the hell did you get that?” I say, still in shock.

“Thigh holster,” she says, running past me down the stairs.

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