Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 145942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Not fucking quick enough though.
My gaze sweeps across the room, trying to determine where the kids would be kept and I hardly get the whole way around before the first bullets ring out, way before the guards have a chance to even reach for their guns, most of them are still getting to their feet.
They all duck for cover as the boys handle the fucking room like the kings that they are. Bullets rain down around the bunker, ricocheting off the metal walls.
One thing is clear though, Paris Fucking Moustaff is not here.
The bunker is much bigger than the blueprints suggested, making me wonder if Dynasty was trying to keep this hidden or if Paris had gone to the effort to expand it. Seeing as though we’re underground and absolutely nothing looks new about it, my guess is that Dynasty had the blueprints drawn up incorrectly.
A bullet zooms straight past my head and instead of fretting and panicking about it, it just pisses me off. I stare back at the guy who had let his bullet loose at my face and without hesitation, I squeeze down on the trigger and truly join the party.
He drops to the ground and as I go to find my next target, my gaze shifts to a part of the back wall that doesn’t quite look right. “There,” I call out to Cruz who somehow is now right beside me. “They’ve got to be in there. There are no other doors.”
“GO,” he yells back at me. “I’ll cover you.”
I run for my fucking life, darting through flying bullets and avoiding the assholes who want to put a bullet through my head. I reach the door and just as I grip the heavy chain that keeps it locked, two guards come racing at me, both anger and fear in their eyes. I don’t get a chance to say hello though, as they both drop to the ground when bullets send their brains spurting out the front of their heads, splashing all over me.
I hold back vomit as my gaze flicks to Cruz. He looks back at me, double-checking that I’m okay before concentrating on the room around him. We can deal with the brains later, right now I have to get this fucking door open.
The boys start to spread out, wanting to keep me protected from all angles as I grip onto the chains and desperately try to free them, but there’s no use. I’ll never get them open with my bare hands.
I look around the fallen guards, but none of them seem to have keys connected to their belts like the guy at the last door had. I guess this one is up to me.
Lining myself up with the door, I hold my gun and clench my jaw. This is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but it’s all I’ve got right now, and it seems to work in the movies. So before I get the chance to hesitate, I shoot, letting the bullet fly free.
It completely misses and a frustrated squeal tears out of me. I try again and again until I have no bullets left and only then I realize that while I haven’t achieved exactly what I wanted, I was able to nick the chains enough to destroy the integrity of the loop. I turn the gun around and use the butt to smash the loop and I don’t dare let up, I keep at it, letting out all the rage I feel for the boys as I duck and weave while trying to avoid getting shot in the back.
A shadow appears at my side and I raise the gun, ready to smash this guy’s skull when I find Carver creeping in beside me. “I’m not strong enough,” I call to him, hoping he can hear me over the thundering sound of the bullets echoing through the metal bunker.
Without hesitation, he grabs the gun from my hand and I shuffle out of the way. He brings it down so hard, the chain falls away. He drops the gun to the bloodied floor and reaches for the other that Cruz had shoved into my belt.
He hands it over and with the door unchained and a good handful of the guards down, King rushes toward us. “They’re going to be ready for us,” Carver reminds him.
“Not as fucking ready as I am.”
Cruz and Grayson shuffle toward the main door, preparing themselves for when we get the kids out of here, wanting a clear path for them to be able to run out and back into the tunnel, but first things first—finding and freeing them.
Carver presses his strong body against the door as his firm grip circles the lock. He meets King’s gaze as he steps directly in front of the door, the two of them ready to do this as a team. I keep away from the door, knowing that there’s no way in hell that I’ll be able to move fast enough to be helpful. This is exactly what King was talking about back at my place. I have to know my limits so that I won’t be a liability.