Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Maya and I both exhale a breath that was apparently frozen in our lungs. She even reaches over and squeezes my hand in a fuck-that-was-close grip.
Rush leans around the back of the car, shooting twice through the man’s head, and the rapid-fire stops completely.
Well, for a second.
In the next instant, doors spring open from somewhere I can’t see with a telling sound, and rapid gunfire hammers the guys.
Rush ducks and dives, Axle flies to the left, and we lose sight of both of them as the bullets hail on.
Maya’s grip on my hand gets tighter, neither of us moving.
I’m not even sure if we’re even breathing.
The gunfire stops, and we watch as the tactical group move in with silent, militant hand signals.
My hand slips, and the gun I’m clutching bumps the ground. A laser pointer shoots out, and my eyes widen as I scramble to try to turn it off.
The man I’m unintentionally targeting spots it, darts his eyes up, and immediately starts firing toward us.
Maya squeals and rolls away, while I scramble back, staying low to the ground as I twist and—
Rapid gunfire from behind me sounds, and I glance over my shoulder to see Drake on his feet with two assault rifles as he grits his teeth with wild eyes.
“I’m damn tired of being shot at when I’m unarmed! Come at me now, bitches!” he shouts like a deranged lunatic at his breaking point.
The men start tumbling down, but when they start firing back and end up knocking one gun from Drake’s hand, he curses and dives to the ground, rolling up beside me.
“That’s all I got!”
I’m in the process of popping my magazine back into place.
“I have one shot!” I tell him as the barrage of bullets keep pelting the whole room around us.
“Fucking peachy!”
“Where’d you get the guns?” I ask him hopefully.
“They were just on the ground beside me when I woke up like the gun-fairy came while I was sleeping. Where’s that fucking banshee who loves this stupid fucking song?” Drake yells at me like this is all my fault and I’m now in charge of remedying the situation before our imminent deaths.
Before I can formulate even a partial answer to that ramble of nonsense, more gunfire sounds from overhead. My gaze jerks up, and my heart stops completely when I see Rush dropping with a rope around his waist, way too freaking exposed, as he fires away.
His expression is totally blank.
His eyes are cold and detached.
It’s like he’s done this a thousand times and feels invincible when he’s not.
When his feet hit the ground, he barely lands in a crouch, never interrupting his spray of bullets as he mows down the men coming up the stairs.
Yells for retreat sound when he pulls another gun over his shoulder with his free hand, and picks up where he left off.
Sarah drops down behind him, grinning over at us with a this-is-the-best-day-ever smile. It never wavers as she turns with bright eyes, pulls her own gun over her shoulder, and starts firing at will.
Axle…drops…with much less grace, slamming the floor on his side, and grunting out a curse.
He rolls out of the way, and he starts popping off rounds at the ones below us, who…are stepping over all the dead bodies in suits as they try to take us from this side.
That damn song plays on, carrying over the war-zone melody.
I peer around the edge just in time to see Rush’s body jerk a few times. A scream tears from me as Drake struggles to hold me back, but my panic flees when I see him still on his feet with no blood. It’s then I realize he’s armed with a bulletproof vest.
Axle continues to fend off this side, while Sarah and Rush clean up what’s left. It’s when the gunfire completely ceases that Maya rushes Axle. He catches her midair and pins her against the wall, looking around to ensure nothing else can get close to her unless it goes through him. Then he kisses her like he doesn’t care if he’s distracted and dies.
“If Rush wouldn’t shoot off my dick, I’d kiss you like that right now. Just because I’m so damn happy to not have a single bullet in me,” Drake states evenly as he collapses to the ground with a whimpered groan. “Need new friends.”
“I’ve been here a month, and I agree with you,” I say as I pat him on the chest. “You don’t belong.”
“Thanks for pointing that out,” he groans as I carefully stand, crouching out of paranoia.
It’s hard to go from spitfire weapons to utter silence, and my heart is thumping wildly because I have no idea what shape Rush is in. With it being so quiet, aside from that damn song, I’m scared to find out.
I cling to the railing to help me balance as I kick at bodies to clear a path. One guy groans next to me, and I startle when two bullet holes magically seem to appear in his head, the sound of a gun firing catching up to me after the fact.