Before I could get off another shot, a fist connected with my temple. My vision blurred, and I cursed under my breath. I stumbled back and lifted my arm again. Too late.
At least two hundred pounds of pure muscle launched itself at me, and I hit the floor hard. My head knocked into my dresser as I went down, stinging like a bitch, but I didn’t have time to cry over shit like this. I had to fight. Lifting my gun, I managed to get a shot off, but the man on top of me lunged to the side at the last second. My vision was even more blurred from the hits I’d taken, but I didn’t let that slow me down.
I couldn’t.
A fist hit my stomach, and I fought the nausea trying to take over me. I struggled to get a lock on the man attacking me, but my damn vision wouldn’t cooperate. At the last second, I saw black metal pointed at me, and kicked at it with a curse. My bare foot connected with bone and metal, and it skittered across the floor to the foot of the bed.
Toward Heidi.
From my position on the floor, I had a second to meet her stare directly, but that was all I had. She was still hidden, covering her mouth to stifle any sound she might make, and still safe. Lifting my gun, I fired off another shot. This time, I didn’t miss. The fucker hit the floor, convulsing and choking on his own blood.
I rolled to my feet, gasping in a deep breath and pressing a hand to my stomach. Jesus Christ, this had to be hell on earth. Fighting not only for my own life, but for the life of the woman I loved. How could I—? Wait, what?
Maybe that fall had affected more than my vision.
My ears rang from the gunshots, and I blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear my vision and my brain. I was nearly certain I had a concussion, and the dizziness was as unwelcome as it was dangerous. As were my inner thoughts, so I shut them the fuck down. But still, all I could hear was the thumping of my racing heart, echoing in my head. A quick glance confirmed what I already knew.
Neither of these men was my brother.
But I recognized them . . . even though my bullets had blown their heads apart. They were two of the Bitter Hill guys from Heidi’s bar the other night, George and Patrick. Where George and Patrick went, Phil went, too. There was at least one more guy out there, waiting to pounce. I’d have to pounce first.
It was the only way we’d get out of here alive.
I lifted my gun and crept toward the door. I didn’t hear anything from the living room, but the pounding of my heart told me I wasn’t safe yet. I’d always trusted my instincts when it came to shit like this, and I wasn’t about to stop doing so now, when they had never failed me before. Ignoring Heidi in case anyone was watching, I tiptoed through the door and peeked out into the living room.
No sign of anyone, but I knew he was there. The second I stepped through the door, someone pressed the business end of a gun to the back of my head. The asshat had been hidden against the wall, just like I’d been. And I’d fallen for it.
“Freeze, fucker,” he commanded, his tone as mocking as mine would have been, had the roles been reversed.
I did. He was behind me, holding a gun to my head, so for now, he had the advantage. I wouldn’t let that last for long, though. The stakes were too high. I had to win, or die trying. And if I died . . . Heidi died. That wasn’t acceptable.
“Don’t even blink. Gun up.”
“Phil. How nice of you to come play,” I said slowly, holding my hands out but not relinquishing my gun. “I was wondering when I’d get to reunite you with your buddies.”
“Face the window.”
I turned toward the window. “You want to let me watch the bright blue sky as you shoot me?” I sighed. “Wow. I hadn’t taken you for a sentimental guy. Maybe I’ll be nice when I kill you, too.” I paused, as if thinking about it. “Then again, I never was any good at being nice.”
“You’re gonna kill me?” Phil asked, laughing.
I nodded once. “Yep.”
“I’m not the one with a gun to my head,” Phil said, sounding out of breath already, when he hadn’t even done a damn thing yet. He pressed the barrel into the back of my head even harder, twisting it, managing to find the spot I’d slammed into the dresser. It hurt like a bitch, but I clenched my jaw to keep any telltale signs of weakness from showing. “And you’re already bleeding.”
“What? That?” I chuckled. “That’s just a scratch. You want to see blood, look at your buddies. They’re ruining my hardwood floors with all that brain matter.”
Phil growled. “Shut the fuck up.”
“I’ll tell you what. How about I give you one chance to run for it. I’ll count to three, and once I finish, if you’re still here, I’ll blow your brains out and ruin my floors out here, too.” I grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I know a guy who can get the stains out.”
The gun shoved in the back of my head wavered. “Go to hell.”
“Gladly. One.”
“Stop it,” Phil warned, the gun wavering even more. “Stop counting.”
“Two.” I tensed, ready to whirl and hoped to hell that Phil wasn’t quick enough to fight me off. It was all I had going for me. “Th—”