Page 106 of Tuck & Roll

The sound of pipes from many bikes barely registered as he fought to stay conscious. Damn. He hurt all over.

Tuck pulled Chet out of the way and dropped to his knees next to Darren. “Hold on, man. We’re getting help.”

Between panting breaths, he said, “Kylie’s safe. Threat’s gone.”

“That’s right. Kylie’s safe. She’s calling 9-1-1. You stay awake and talk to her or she’s going to go nuts.” Tuck reached for the knife, intending to pull it free until Kylie stopped him. “No. Leave it. They’ll take it out at the hospital.”

Tuck waited his ten minutes, then slipped out of his truck, making sure to close the door quietly. He went up the porch stairs and peeked through the window. No one in the living room. He held his gun in his right hand as he tried the knob with his left. Locked. Damn it.

He was halfway down the steps when he heard a gunshot inside the house. His heart momentarily froze in his chest. Who was shooting and who got shot? Was Kylie okay?

He hurried around the back of the house looking for a way inside. As he spotted the back door, he took a moment to peek through a kitchen window. He was relieved to see Darren and Kylie both alive and sitting at the table. Kylie was working furiously at a computer with Chet standing behind her with a gun pointed at Darren. Fuck. It looked like Darren had already been shot near his right shoulder. The towel he was holding against the wound was already turning red. That wasn’t good. When he looked a little closer he could see that Darren appeared a little pale and sweat dotted his brow. The pain had to be almost unbearable.

Look at me. Look at me, he mentally begged his friend. Finally. He motioned that he was going to come through the back door. Darren subtly shook his head and tapped his hand over the towel three times. Damn it. There were three Phantoms inside. He nodded his head and held up three fingers, acknowledging he understood. He motioned again that he was going to circle the house and find another way to get inside. This time Darren gave him a small dip of his chin.

It took a couple of tries, but he finally found an unlocked window. It rose about an inch, giving him hope he could make it inside and rescue his woman and best friend. Before he attempted to enter the house, he sent a text to Race giving him the address and that there were three Phantoms. He put his phone away and sent a prayer up that they got there quickly.

He pushed at the window, struggling with the stubborn thing until it suddenly gave way with a screech. He flinched and held his breath as he waited to see if someone would come to investigate. When no one immediately stormed the room, he hoisted himself inside and gave the area a quick look around. With the lacy bedding and rocking chair, it looked to belong to a woman. An older woman at that. Spotting a table across the room covered in knick knacks and a glass lap on the nightstand next to the bed, he counted himself lucky that there wasn’t something similar in front of the window.

Tuck made his way to the closed door, freezing in place when he heard a floorboard creak in the hall just outside the room. With no time to lose, he quickly darted to the side to hide in the shadows behind the door, making it just as someone slowly pushed it open.

“What the fuck?” One of the Phantoms slowly entered the room, his gun out and ready.

Fuck. Tuck hadn’t closed the window. The lace curtains barely moved, but it was enough to catch the Phantom’s attention.

The Phantom made it three feet past the open door before it occurred to him to check behind it. Too Late. The guy’s gun was pointed at Tuck, but he got his shot off faster. He didn’t have long to mentally kick himself in the ass before he heard heavy footsteps running down the hall in his direction.

The other Phantom entered the room, arm extended, gun in hand. This one was a little smarter. He shoved the door open hard, bouncing it off Tuck. By the time Tuck had the door out of his way, the Phantom had him in his sights. Tuck ducked and rolled away, popping up on a knee, firing off two shots. The second Phantom went down next to the first one.

A loud crash coming from the kitchen jolted him into action. “Kylie.” He took off down the hall and came up short as he took in what was going on. Darren and Chet were wrestling for control of a gun. Chet headbutted Darren, then stuck his finger in his gunshot wound. Tuck didn’t know how Darren didn’t pass out.

Instead, Darren came back with a hard elbow to Chet’s face, temporarily stunning him, then he punched him in the face a couple of times for good measure.

Tuck scanned the room looking for Kylie. He had to get her safe before he could help Darren. Where was she? His heart raced and he was on the verge of panicking when he spotted her on the floor on the other side of the table trying to make herself as small of a target as possible.

“Fuck!” Darren roared. He stumbled back and Tuck’s stomach clenched. Chet had managed to stab Darren in the side and the knife was still sticking out of him. Son of a bitch.

“Kylie! Over here!” She looked up and his breath hitched when he saw her face was bruised again. Fucking Chet. He waved her over and met her halfway. He held Kylie close and watched as Darren managed to take Chet to the floor. How he managed to do that with a knife still sticking out of him, Tuck had no idea. He was on the verge of leaving her in the hall against the wall and hurrying to Darren’s aid when a loud crack was heard. He buried Kylie’s face in his chest as she flinched in his arms. Darren had broken Chet’s neck.

“Kylie, call 9-1-1.”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“Here. Use mine.” He shoved his phone in her hands and went to pull Chet the rest of the way off Darren. He dropped to his knees beside him. “Hold on, man. We’re getting help.” Tuck saw that his friend’s breathing was hard and labored. Would help get there in time? His shoulder wound was bleeding a lot again and God only knew what kind of damage the knife had done.

Tuck found the towel Darren had been using to stem the flow of blood coming from his shoulder wound and applied pressure. Darren groaned and closed his eyes.

Between panting breaths, he said, “Kylie’s safe. Threat’s gone.”

“That’s right. Kylie’s safe. She’s calling 9-1-1. You stay awake and talk to her or she’s going to go nuts.” Tuck reached for the knife only to have Kylie return and stop him. “No. Leave it. They’ll take it out at the hospital.”

She dropped to her knees on the other side and cupped Darren’s bearded jaw, begging him to hang on. “Please. Please. Please. I can’t lose you.” She wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Help is on the way.” She smoothed the hair off his forehead, then gathered his hand in both of hers. “You better hang in there or else.”

Darren tried to laugh only to end up in a coughing fit. “Or else what?”

“I’ll never forgive you if you leave me. I can hold a mean grudge.” Her watery smile broke Tuck’s heart.

“I’m fine. All’s good.” Darren’s eyes fluttered before they closed.

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