Page 83 of Possession

For me.

But that’s when it happens.

Rocco is blind to it. Nic reaches under his shirt, and grabs a gun tucked in his pants.

“Rocco!” I scream. “He’s got a gun!”

Rocco’s back is to the desk, but as soon as the wordgunis spit from my lips, his eyes flare.

I scream when Rocco grabs Nic by the ears and pulls him in so hard, I hear skulls crash.

He headbutted him.

Nic’s gun clanks to the wood floor, but Rocco doesn’t stop. He pushes Nic back far enough to put a boot to his chest.

Nic stumbles, and Rocco follows.

The brawl continues. Fists fly, and grunts and profanities follow. I scramble and grab the gun in a shaky grip. The weapon clanks and scratches on the floor as I crawl back to the wall.

Rocco has maneuvered himself between Nic and me. He’s bigger, but Nic is sadistic.

I can’t sit here and see my friend get hurt. Not over me.

I’ve never held a gun, let alone shot one, but I don’t have a choice.

I squeeze the trigger.

Or try to.

It’s stiff in my trembling hands.

Then, it happens.

I fire a gun for the first time, and the two men fighting in front of me freeze.

The room is silent aside from my heart pounding in my chest and their heavy pants. I move the gun from where I just put a bullet through the ceiling and point it straight at Nic.

“Get out,” I whisper. “If you touch him again, I’ll kill you.”

Nic turns his head and spits blood on the floor right before dragging the back of his forearm across his cut mouth. “You couldn’t hit a target if you wanted to.”

Rocco moves. The next thing I know, he swipes the gun from my hand and points it at Nic.

“I can hit a target as small as the spot between your beady fucking eyes,” he rumbles. “Feel free to stand there and test my skills. I’m happy to play target practice with your fucking head.”

Nic turns his stare from Rocco to me and seethes, “I’m not done with you, bitch. You’d better hope Boz doesn’t leave you by yourself again. I’ve got eyes everywhere. I’ll know when you’re alone.”

Then, he’s gone.

When I hear the front door slam, my eyes fall shut, but that doesn’t stop my tears. Silent tears of relief.

“Is she okay?” I open my eyes, beyond Rocco, who stands over me with Nic’s gun dangling from his hand, June is in the doorway that’s now splintered wood from Rocco breaking through it. Panic with a mix of relief is etched in her old features as she takes me in. “There was nothing I could do when I realized what was happening. I locked Miranda in her room and ran to get Rocco. What did he do to you?”

I can’t answer. I can’t even utter a word.

But June does. She’s not panicked any longer. She acts like men attacking women and gunshots through the ceiling are things she’s accustomed to dealing with, because she takes charge. “The door is locked. I called Spencer. He’s calling Mr. Torres.” Her old, wise eyes focus on Rocco. “Give me the gun and get her upstairs to their bedroom. If I need to call the doctor, I will.”

“No,” I whisper, and realize my top lip is swelling. Hell, I don’t even know how that happened. “Please, don’t call anyone.”

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