At the corner of the building, arms wrapped around him from behind and the ground dropped away from his feet.
The same old shit rose in him, but he was fueled now, his senses were armed to fight it. He threw his head back, colliding with Tony’s. She grunted and released him.
He needed to catch up with Colson, who had already vanished around the corner. He held his fear tightly within him and burst into the rear alley.
At first, all he saw was the stiff back of Colson’s shirt. Tony positioned herself in front of him, panting and steadying her gun. “Stay behind me.”
Fuck that. He ran around her and froze.
At the farthest end of the building, a man faced Charlee where she stood with her back against the wall, the barrel of a handgun pressed against her jaw.
Rage buckled through him and dread knotted in his gut. He blinked against the sun beating down on him, whirling under weight of the sky and the buzz of cocaine.
The man looked his way, met his eyes. The wind beneath Jay’s high dispersed and his nervous system crashed. Sweat slicked his palms and panic rode in on a wave of tremors.
If he ran toward them, would the fucker shoot her? Even with Tony and Colson aiming their guns behind him? Not a chance he would take.
Charlee’s hand twisted in her bag. Was her hand on her gun? His heart panted with indecision.
The bag shifted. If she adjusted the angle right, could she point at the kneecap? Jay sucked in a breath. Not without the gun at her face going off.
The man jerked his head back to her and wrenched the bag strap from her chest, the barrel of his gun sliding over her cheek.
Jay ran toward them, air heaving from his lungs, and tension straining his muscles. Tony and Colson shouted his name, their footfalls trailing.
The man wrestled the strap over Charlee’s head and Jay’s panic unfurled in a roar. “Get the fuck away from her.”
Wrinkles marred the unfamiliar Asian features. The barrel twisted against her cheek, but his gaze turned to Jay.
The bag flew up with Charlee’s hand wedged inside and paused at the man’s chest. Jay’s heart rate skyrocketed.
Boom…Boom.
35
The double gunshots stunned Jay in mid-stride, shattering his pace into a stumbling stagger. The man dropped to the ground, as did Charlee.
The echo of the blasts lingered in alley, ringing in Jay’s ears. A river of red seeped from beneath her face where it lay on the man’s chest. Not her blood. No, it couldn’t be hers.
Hands shaking, heart roaring, he skidded beside them, fell upon his knees and pulled her into his arms. Was she hit? Breathing? Other than the spots of crimson dotting her chest, her shirt was free of bullet holes. Yet, she hung lifelessly in his embrace, eyes closed.
Blood caked one side of her face. It also puddled on the pavement. Streams of it trickled from the hole in the Asian man’s chest, who lay on his back, unmoving.
Colson squatted and touched the meaty neck. “Dead.”
The validation did nothing to soothe Jay’s hammering heart. He let her legs drop to his lap as he groped for a pulse in her throat, uncertainty resonating in his constricting chest. Then he felt a steady thump against his fingers. He choked, exhaled.
Hand on her chin, he turned her head, wiped the blood from her cheek, and searched for injuries. There. A graze marred her earlobe and another at her hairline behind it.
Life was made up of a series of defining moments, but the instant his eyes rested on those wounds, the very second he realized how fucking close that bullet came to killing her, every harrowing moment of his life before it burned away.
Her lashes fluttered and she looked up, squinted. “My head hurts.”
He ducked his head and kissed her cheek. “Because you just used up another one of your nine lives. Problem is, I don’t have nine lives and I fucking die every time you do. No more near-deaths, okay?”
A small smile shook her lips. “‘kay.”
Momentarily paralyzed by her eyes drifting closed and the memory of the gun in her face, he blinked through the shock, and alertness snapped back in a painful spasm. He needed to get her the fuck out of the alley.
Gathering her close, he climbed to his feet and whirled in a circle, marking an overfilled dumpster, parked cars, an iron fence peeking through wild vines. Were there more men with guns out there, watching?
Around the corner, the parking lot woke with approaching footsteps and excited voices. At his feet, the blood was drying beneath the sun and breeze. And somewhere Roy fucking Oxford was orchestrating his next step.
Colson nodded to Tony and took off toward the lot and the growing crowd. Tony moved to Jay’s side with her gun hand out between them, muzzle pointed skyward. She tilted her head with a finger on her ear piece and glanced up at the top of the building.