Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
"Let's roll."
"I'll drive."
I toss Finn my keys without complaint, knowing he's in a better frame of mind to get us there than I am. I'm as liable to run us into a ditch than I am to get us to Hope in one piece.
I dial her number.
Pick up, Firefly. Please, pick up.
Dillon whips into the driveway two seconds ahead of Finn who drives my truck like he fucking stole it. I'm surprised the damn tires aren't smoking when we pull up. My hackles rise as soon as I see the silver truck in the driveway.
And then my gaze lands on Thomas Huntington's body sprawled across the sidewalk. My blood runs cold. I'm out of the truck and sprinting for the door before Finn even has it in park.
Dillon grabs me, tackling me to the ground halfway to the house.
I roar, trying to throw him off me.
"Callum, goddammit!"
Footsteps race toward us before Finn drops to his knees, helping Dillon pin me in place. I fight against both of them, trying like hell to break free to get to Hope. If he hurt her. Ah, Christ. If he hurt her…
"Think for a minute, goddammit," Dillon barks. "If he's got her in the house and you go rushing in there, you're putting her life at risk. And if she's…"
"Don't you fucking say it," I snarl. "Don't say it."
"Easy, brother," Finn says. "Easy."
She's alive. She has to be alive. I'd know if she weren't. Half of my soul would be gone. And it's not. It's still blazing bright as the sun, pulsing like a second, vital heartbeat inside me. He's inside with her right now, doing God only knows what.
Ah, God, Firefly. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry I wasn't here.
"We have to go in. He has her in there, goddammit." I push against their hold again, meeting their gazes. "If she were your wives, you'd go in. You know you would."
Dillon curses.
Finn releases me, holding his hands up.
"You aren't going in without a fucking gun," Dillon snaps, reluctantly letting me go.
I climb to my feet, everything in me screaming for me to make a run for the door. But he's right. If I'm going in, the only way that bastard is coming out is in a body bag. That's the only way this ends. It's inevitable at this point. It was from the moment he hurt her the first time.
I'm not tame. I'm not civilized. When it comes to her, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make her mine and keep her safe. He touched what didn't belong to him. He hurt her. He has to pay for that. I won't fucking rest until he does.
I stomp back to my truck, popping the glove compartment to retrieve my gun.
Dillon sighs in exasperation when he sees it. "Of course you have a goddamn gun in the glove compartment."
"This is Texas," Finn mutters. "Everyone has a gun in the glove compartment."
Cormac pulls into the driveway before Dillon can say anything else. He throws it into park and climbs out with the engine still running, jogging toward us. He spares a quick glance at the body on the ground, quickly assessing the situation, and then his eyes come to me. "What's the play?"
"We're going in."
"Fucking right we are."
"I've got backup on the way."
Cormac shoots Dillon a wicked grin. "Won't need it. He'll be handled before they get here. Who's got the front and who gets the back?"
"I'll take the back with Dillon since I'm not armed," Finn says. "You and Callum can have the front. Let's do this shit."
Cormac heads for the front door without hesitation, ready to throw down. His big ass is always ready. I'm right beside him, ready to get to my girl. Dillon mutters a curse and then he and Finn head toward the back of the house.
"You better find him quick," Cormac mutters. "We've got about a sixty second head start on Dillon. After that, all bets are off."
We pound up the front steps together, not bothering to be quiet about it. There's no hiding the fact that we're here. If he's in there with Hope, he already knows we're coming in after him.
Don't let him win, Firefly. Whatever you do, don't let him win. I'm coming for you. I promise.
I try the door, surprised when it opens. The fucker didn't even bother locking it. Either he's cocky, he's stupid, or they aren't here. A bullet slams into the wooden frame, splintering wood right beside my face.
So he's stupid, then. Got it.
"Shit," Cormac growls.
Hope shouts my name as another gunshot rings out. Kieve barks his little head off and then yelps. Oh, that motherfucker better not have hurt him.
I kick the door open, trying to get a visual on what's happening inside. My blood boils when I see Hope running across the foyer with tears streaming down her face. Silas is a few feet behind her, trying to shake Kieve off where the dog has latched onto his hand.