Fury rises inside of me and I look at him with eyes burning with rage. He smiles when he sees it, clearly recognizing it.
“Yeah, don't worry though, bro,” he says. “I'm gonna take real good care of her.”
“Armando, please don't,” Holly says.
He turns to her and then looks back to me, the predatory smile on his face growing wider. I flinch at the sound of the shots that ring out. The booming of guns echoes around the warehouse louder than a cannon. Armando's eyes grow wide as blooms of red appear on his shirt. His gun hits the floor with a clatter and he looks down at his chest, disbelief on his face. He touches the blood flowing from his body and holds it up, looking at it closely, as if he can't believe what he's seeing.
Abruptly, Armando falls face first to the floor, his body hitting the ground with a wet, meaty thud. I look up to find Michael stepping through the doorway, a gun in his hand, a murderous gleam in his eye. He looks at Holly, who is looking back at him with eyes that are wide and full of fear.
“Don't worry, honey,” he says. “Let me finish this and we can leave. We can go somewhere and start over. Everything is going to be okay. I promise you.”
Michael stands over me, the gun in my face. Unlike Armando though, his hand is trembling, and the gun is wavering side-to-side. I look past Michael to the doorway. Seeing that I'm looking beyond him, Michael spins around, raising the gun at the same time. I lash out with my good leg and catch him in the back of the knee. He topples over backward and lands flat on his back.
I grab Armando's gun from the ground, rage filling my body, my every nerve ending feeling like it's on fire. I get to my feet and stand on Michael's gun hand, pointing the other gun down at his face. Sweat rolls down my face and body, pain shooting through the core of me. I'm furious beyond words and honestly, I’m tempted to pull the trigger.
“Brayden,” Holly whispers. “Don't.”
My hand clenches and I sneer down at him, sickened by the thought of him selling his own daughter into a life like this. Revolted by him.
“Brayden,” a soft voice says behind me.
I feel a hand gently touch my shoulder and instantly, I feel a rush of calm. I turn and look at Adam who is looking back at me, a lopsided smile on his face. He reaches out and takes the gun from me, quickly tucking it into the waistband of his pants. He quickly moves to disarm Michael as well. With all the weapons out of reach, the tension in the room slowly begins to ebb. He steps to the doorway and calls out.
“In here,” he shouts. “We need a medic.”
There is a flurry of activity as men in black come in and pick Michael up off the ground. They cuff him and cart him away. Through it all, Holly clings to me, sobbing. She looks at me, her face a mixture of fear and pain and – something else, I can't quite define. I look back at her, wishing I could do something, anything, to take it all away.
She opens her mouth to say something, and judging by the earnest look in her eyes, it seems important. But, she casts a quick glance at Adam and closes her mouth again without saying a word.
“What is it?” I ask.
Holly shakes her head. “Nothing,” she says softly, avoiding my gaze. “It can wait.”
“Holly?”
She shakes her head again. “I almost lost you tonight,” she says, her face barely more than a whisper. “I almost lost you.”
I take her hand and give it a squeeze, trying to convey all the emotion I have for her in that one gesture. A ghost of a smile touches her lips, but the light in her face tells me that she understands. That my message has been received.
“I'm still here though,” I say. “We're still here.”
She nods. “Yes, we are.”
Adam pats me on the shoulder. “Good work tonight,” he says. “You've got some stones. I guess that's another trait you Anderson boys share.”
“I'm just glad you still have some connections in the right places.”
“Never fear, Brayden,” he says. “I'm always going to be a well-connected man.”
Holly looks at him, tilting her head. “Who are you?”
“Hi, I'm Adam,” he says, shaking her hand.
She looks at me questioningly. “This is a man with a set of skills and talents that Liam and I find valuable,” I say. “And someone we always want on our side.”
I keep my arm around Holly as they help me out to the ambulance. Outside, the activity is still buzzing, but it's clear that Trujillo and his men are done. A lot of them permanently. There are bodies everywhere. It looks like a damn warzone.
They help me toward an ambulance where a couple of EMTs strap me onto a stretcher. Laying there, staring up at the ceiling, I grimace as the pain really starts to set in now that the adrenaline is wearing off. Holly is sitting on a bench beside me in the back of the van, holding onto my hand for dear life.
Adam leaning over, looks at me. “Remember that advice I gave you before?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Scrap it,” he says. “All of it. I was wrong.”
“I know you were,” I say and laugh.
Chapter Thirty
Holly
Brayden opens his eyes and looks right at me and I feel my heart swell with relief and happiness. I'm holding his hand in mine tightly, and we share a small smile as he looks around the hospital room. It's a private room, with amenities some of the other standard rooms don't have. A large, flat-panel TV on the wall probably being the primary one.
They do try and make it look less antiseptic than the other rooms, with flowers on the table and artwork on the walls. But, despite their efforts, it's still a hospital room and there's really no disguising that.
“Nice setup,” he says. “For a hospital, I mean.”
“Yeah, I guess it pays to be spoiled and rich,” I say. “I'm just glad you're okay. That was really stupid though, you know. You could have been killed.”
“But, I wasn't,” he says.
I sigh. “I'm just so relieved that you're okay, Brayden.”
He squeezes my hand, then brings it up to his lips and plants a soft kiss on the back of it. He looks at me with such tenderness and sincerity that it melts my heart.
“I'm more than okay,” he says.
“You actually look kind of rough to me,” I say and laugh. “We really need to get you into some designer clothes, STAT.
Brayden was shot in the thigh during the fight. Thankfully though, the bullet missed anything vital. It pierced the skin and the muscle of his lower thigh, but ended up being nothing a simple surgery couldn't fix. The bullet was removed, and he was stitched up without issue. The doctors said that although he will limp around for a while, they expect he will make a full recovery, and that he could be discharged in a couple of days.
I smile at him as he looks around, wide-eyed, as if experiencing some magical ride or something. I realize he's still loopy from the pain meds. Even with the dark circles under his eyes, Brayden is still incredibly handsome. I can't stop staring.
“That bad, huh?” he asks as his eyes focus on me again.
“Like I said, I'm just glad you're okay,” I say. “And the doctors say you'll be able to go home soon. As long as you take it easy.”
Brayden pushes himself up into a sitting position, wincing a bit as he positions himself. I stand up and help him with the pillows, straightening them and making sure he's comfortable. Before I sit back down, I lean in to kiss his forehead. But, Brayden turns his head and kisses my lips instead. As he holds my face in his hands, a sense of warm relief washes over me.
It's over. It's all over now.
“So, you don't hate me?” he asks, his face and voice taking a serious turn.
“Hate you? Why would I –”
“Because your dad and brother are in prison,” he says softly. “Because of what I did. The deal I made.”