Shouts follow, and we all file in through the smoke, breaking apart to take each side of the large foyer. I duck behind a post, and Garrett does the same while Diesel flies over an old sofa as bullets fire at him. Kenzo slips behind the front desk. I peek around to see bodies on the floor, but from the stairs and up above, they’re firing what sounds like submachine guns, the bullets spraying everything as wood and sofa bits fly everywhere, the roar loud.
Then it goes silent, and we all move at the same time. Stooping down, I take aim, choosing the top floor since I’m the best shot. I trust my brothers to deal with the others. I drop two men before ducking back behind the pillar as they start firing again, their shouts echoing. Looking to Garrett, I nod. He palms the grenade launcher again, and I cover him, darting out and firing randomly as he lines up and shoots.
We both hide behind our cover as the explosions sound again, and then it’s silent. He slings the grenade launcher behind him and grabs the shotgun. I nod, and we break from our cover. There are only two guys left in here, and they are coming down to meet us. Diesel flies at one with a roar, slicing and ripping him to pieces. Kenzo takes the other, sliding over the desk and sneaking up behind him, shooting him in the head.
“We go down. Garrett, you take the back,” I instruct, as we head past the staircase to the stairs that lead to the basement. No doubt they are waiting, so I tear open the door and toss a smoke bomb down there, waiting until I hear the yells and coughs, then I sneak down. Kenzo’s hand clutches my shoulder, Diesel is behind him, and Garrett is taking up the rear, watching our backs.
Ducking at the bottom of the stairs, I peer around the corner to see three men, all coughing and whining, looking around wildly.
“Where are they?”
“Fucking find them!” they scream.
Steadying my breathing, I pick off all three before swinging my rifle behind my back and grabbing my pistol and knife. Kenzo taps me, and I nod, then he slips past me and into the space, his gun drawn as he leans down and checks them, ensuring they are dead. When he nods, we break into the room. There are two doors, both cupboards, and we investigate them. The only way out is farther down through a narrow corridor.
It could be a trap. It’s a risk we have to take.
“Diesel.” I nod, and he slips down the passageway. If it’s a trap, only one of us dies. It’s the rule.
He moves on silent feet, a machete in one hand and a pistol in the other. When he reaches the intersection, he presses to the wall before rolling around one corner and aiming at the other end. When nothing happens, he waves us on. We follow, and once we get to the junction, I frown. Which fucking way, Ryder, think.
We hear a yell to the left, a very familiar yell.
We all share a look before Garrett tries to break into a sprint, but I hold him back with one hand. “They could be using her as bait, fucking think.”
I move faster now, drawn by her. If they are hurting her, I will fucking kill them and rip them to pieces. The hallway goes on for a while, and there is no one here. It opens into a large room at the end with other doors leading off. I know because Kenzo and I used to play hide and seek down here while Dad was working.
“Okay, Kenzo and I have eyes up top. Garrett and Diesel, left and right.” I nod as Garrett moves to the other side of the hall and nods at me, ready to go in first.
Always ready to die for us…and now her.
Our protector, our enforcer.
But this time, I hesitate to give the order, hating the unknown of that room. We usually have a plan, this is fucked and rushed, but he grunts and nods at me again. “I got this,” he mutters, before breaking free without my orders and stepping into the room. Swearing, I follow after him, the others close behind.
Someone fires, and I duck behind a barrel, peering above it to see at least eight men waiting for us at the other end of the room. They hide behind an overturned table, beer and cards scattered across the floor. They heard us coming.
“Diesel,” I hiss. “Is it time to open the fucking fanny pack yet?”
He laughs. “Nope! This is easy, give me cover,” he whispers, before sneaking into the shadows of the room. To draw their eyes, we quickly fire, making sure they are concentrating on us and not the crazy bastard now climbing across the pipes in the ceiling like some kind of monkey.
I keep my eyes on him, switching between firing and watching him. He crouches when he’s near them, and then, without a word, he drops down behind the table right behind them. “Boo!” he screams, and I rise to my feet, firing as I walk, the others doing the same.
Diesel takes two down, but we hear him yell before he shouts louder. “You bastard!”
Oh shit.
We take the rest down, but when we round the table, he’s punching the shit out of a man. “Shoot me? Bitch, you motherfucking ass dick, bitch, I’ll eat your fucking heart—”
“D?” I call, and he glances up, blood dripping from his ear where the guy obviously got a shot off. “I think he’s dead,” I point out dryly.
He looks down at the man and, with a snort, drops the body before wiping his face on his arm, smearing blood across it. “Where were we?” he asks, as he picks up his machete and tosses it. “Ah, yes, rescuing my little bird.”
“You good?” I query.
He nods and wipes his face again as he steps over the bodies and joins us at the only corridor, which leads to the boiler room. We hear another yell, and we break into a sprint, knowing she’s down there.
The door at the end of the hallway is open, and we aim for it.
We round the door and just stare. Our girl is smashing the butt of the gun into what used to be a face, and when she hears us, she tosses her hair back, straightens, and smirks. “Hey, boys, good timing. Hope I didn’t miss all the fun!”
Blood covers almost all of her, one arm is held oddly at her side, a gun is clutched loosely in her hand, and her body is shivering, but she has never looked so goddamn beautiful. Striding across the room, I grab her and crash my lips to hers. She moans and presses against my body before wincing and pulling away. Breathing heavily, I look down at her, noting every wound and her arm. “What happened?”
“Dislocated, I think, when I smashed the chair to get free.” She sighs. “Don’t try it, it’s not fun.”
Laughing, Diesel grabs her from behind. “Little Bird, Little Bird.”
Kenzo pulls her from his arms and kisses the top of her head, pushing her hair back. “Darling, you scared the shit out of me,” he whispers raggedly.
Garrett plucks her from his grip and presses his forehead to hers, searching her eyes. “Don’t you ever try that shit again,” he snaps, before kissing her. She pulls away with a laugh.
“I missed you all too,” she murmurs.
Diesel prowls around the room, his face cold and angry, his emotions altering so quickly. I nod at Garrett, who takes the door to make sure no one is sneaking up on us. “You left,” he snarls.
She looks over at him and rolls her eyes. “Someone sort out my fucking arm, it’s pissing me off.”
I nod and grasp it softly. I hold it out straight while I meet her gaze. “This is going to hurt, love.”
“Fucking do it,” she snaps, and I do, popping it back into place. She yelps and punches me, I let her. Chuckling, I kiss her hand better when she shakes it out. “Stupid hard head.”
“You left!” Diesel screams, and we all look over at him. Shit, he’s exploding.
“Oh fuck,” Kenzo whispers, and points his gun at him. I hold up my hand to stop him.
“D, calm down,” I order, but he ignores me, shaking his head as he smashes his hands into it.
“Left! She left!” he roars.
“Oh yeah, ’cause it’s my fault for getting kidnapped—” She starts, but doesn’t get to finish. Diesel is there, kissing her hard, tasting her blood, before he bites her injured lip. “You are in a whole lot of fucking shit when we get home, Little Bird.”
“I can’t fucking wait,” she murmurs against his lips while he laughs, but then, suddenly, his hand darts out, circles her neck, and squeezes, not playing. I keep my eye on him in case he actually tries to kill her. He releases it and drags his hand down her front and digs his fingers into a wound, making it bleed more, but she groans and presses closer, even as he’s hurting her.
“I’m so fucking angry at you,” he growls.
“Yeah? You can fuck it out of me later.” She laughs, pressing against him, unafraid, but he pulls away and paces again, his sparkly fanny pack bouncing with the movement.
She doesn’t even question it, used to his brand of crazy.
“You try shit like this again, and I’ll make you wish they had killed you,” he warns as he stops, his hands clenched, and I share a look with Roxy.
Garrett sighs. “I told you not to piss him off, baby.”
She throws her hands in the air. “Next time I’ll tell them not to kidnap me, okay?”
Kenzo sniggers, and she glares at him. “Don’t you fucking laugh.” She turns back to D. “Calm down, babe, just think of all the people upstairs you get to kill.”