Page 135 of Hold On

“Get us out of this or I’ll kill you,” Levan snapped.

“How?” Ren gasped.

“Tell them if they don’t give us a car, I’ll shoot you.”

Three figures in body armour came to the back of the car, weapons pointing at them both.

“Armed police. Put your gun down,” one of the figures snapped.

“I’ll shoot him,” Levan screamed.

“And we’ll shoot you.”

“Then we’ll go fucking together,” Levan whispered in Ren’s ear.

Ren didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the barrel of the gun and swung it up, away from his head. Levan had pressed the trigger, but the bullet went into the car. Ren felt the heat of the barrel and jolted from the recoil but didn’t let go. His ears were ringing, his heart galloping. He and Levan were still struggling to take control of the gun and just as Ren thought this might be a battle he wasn’t going to win, the gun was wrenched from their grasp and Levan was hauled to his feet. A moment later, someone helped Ren up.Foster.

“You okay?” Foster asked.

“Have you got Dominic out of the house?”

“I’ll check.”

He led Ren to a car and Ren sat in the back seat with the door open watching the Georgians being read their rights. He wasn’t a believer in any higher power but if there was ever a time when he wished he believed, it was now. He almost hoped a bullet had killed Dominic, because the thought of him trapped in the eaves where Ren had put him, and getting burned…Oh fuck.There was a saying that death was easy, it was living that was hard, but the thought of Dominic getting burnt to death…Please let him be okay.

Foster leaned over the open door. “He’s on his way to hospital.”

Ren exhaled shakily. So he was alive but…

“That’s where you need to go too. Your head’s bleeding.”

Ren hadn’t even noticed. “What about everyone else?”

“In custody. And the ones in the other vehicles. A bike was in the back of one. Yours I presume?”

“Yes.”

“Come on. Let’s get you out of here. Good job. Well played with the gun. That took guts.”

Ren wished the bullet had gone in Levan’s head. That would have been justice.

Ren’s injuries turned out to be largely superficial, though it didn’t feel like it. Along with a minor concussion, a couple of cracked ribs, multiple cuts and grazes, he was one big bruise. More bruise than unmarked skin as far as he could see. None of that mattered. Dominic was alive, in surgery and not burnt.Thatwas all that mattered.

Although Ren tried to stay awake, he’d been pumped full of painkillers and keeping his eyes open proved impossible. His dreams were vivid and frightening. He kept finding himself too late for everything. Too late for Dominic.

When he woke, Foster was by his bedside.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to upset the doctors and wake you.”

Ren tried to sit up and groaned.

“Here. Use this.” Foster handed him the bed control.

Ren raised the back until he was upright. He reached for a glass of water and winced. When he’d drunk as much as he could, he put the glass back and turned to his boss. “Dominic.”

“He’s fine. Well, he will be fine. Broken leg. He was shot in the same leg. Other than that, same sort of injuries as you.”

“No burns?” Ren just needed to keep having it confirmed.

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