Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“We don’t know how the hell we found you,” Gavin growls. “But I’ll be damned if we let you go.”
“So don’t,” I whisper, biting my lip.
“Done,” Ben purrs. “Done and done.”
I sink into them, melting into Ben’s lips and kissing him deeply before I pull away and roll over to face Gavin. I grin at him, leaning close to kiss him too as his brother nestled in at my back. The first glow of morning is cresting outside the window, but the three of us start to close our eyes to sink back to sleep.
…That is, until both men suddenly stiffen and sit bolt upright in bed.
“What—”
The two of them suddenly grab me and roll us onto the floor to one side of the bed, just as the door to the loft smashes in. Ben roars, lunging for the side table and yanking it over with a crash, both of their guns clatter to the floor, and my heart leaps into my throat as they grab them up, give each other a hard look, and then turn to me.
“Whatever happens, baby,” Gavin hisses as the sound of several men yelling and piling into the loft drowns over us. “Whatever happens, know that we—”
Shots ring out, and the wall behind us is suddenly peppered with holes. The window shatters, and I scream as the two of them lunge over me, protecting me with their own bodies.
“You Irish fucks!” A thick Russian accent roars out. “You want to die like dogs on the floor, or stand up and face your deaths with—”
Ben suddenly pops up from behind the bed and blasts off a bunch of rounds from his gun before ducking back down. I hear two men scream and then the heavy sound of bodies hitting the floor, and my heart leaps into my throat.
“How bad,” Gavin hisses at his brother.
“I got two,” Ben grunts back. His jaw tightens. “Just about fourteen to go.”
My heart sinks, and Gavin’s eyes harden.
“Oh, is that all?” he spits back in cold sarcasm.
“Counting to three!” The Russian guy yells. “You come out now, and we’ll just kill you. You make us wait, and I’ll keep you alive just long enough to watch every single one of my guys have a turn with your pretty little—”
He doesn’t even finish before both of them are up and roaring, firing away with savageness on their face before they’re out of ammo and drop back down. The Russians open back up, bullets hissing over our heads, and sending explosions of down and cotton from the bed up into the air before the firing stops again.
“That’s it, you fucks! One!” The Russian yells out.
The two of them look at me, their eyes hard.
“Whatever happens, baby,” Ben whispers.
“Please don’t say it,” I say softly, tears welling in the corners of my eyes. “Please don’t—”
“Two!”
“Whatever happens,” he growls thickly. “I want you to know that we’re both completely in—”
Suddenly, the sound of gunfire erupts on the other side of the loft. And yet, I suddenly realize that not a single bullet is coming our way.
Wait, what?
The sound of men screaming and roaring in Russian fills the loft along with the sound of gunfire. And then suddenly, it goes quiet. Ben and Gavin glance at each other, frowning.
Ben’s hand tightens on his gun. “What the fuck—”
“Oy! You boyos still alive?”
The rough, deep Irish voice booms out, and suddenly, both of my guys are grinning. Gavin reaches up and yanks down the ruined, bullet-ridden down comforter from the bend and wraps me in it, and then they’re standing and helping me up. I blink in shock: the floor is littered with the bodies of the Russian mobsters, and behind them, standing grim and rough looking are a handful of men in black jackets holding smoking guns. And it doesn’t take a genius to spot the shamrock tattoos and know who it is.
Two huge, incredibly good-looking guys step forward, followed closely by a gorgeous girl with fiery red hair. Gavin and Ben chuckle.
“Now what the fuck are you boys doing over here?” Ben grins.
One of the two men grins back. “Saving your arse, I think.”
Gavin chuckles, pulling the comforter around me even more, seemingly not caring that he and his brother are still buck-naked.
“Charlotte, this is Clay and Eamon, also with the Syndicate. And this is Phoebe, their, uh…”
The red-haired woman smirks, her eyes meeting mine. “I think she might have a handle on how to define or not define it,” she says with a grin. Clay and Eamon grin along with her as they move closer, both of them putting arms around her. My brows shoot up as I realize the implication.
“You two dropped off the face of the fucking planet,” Clay growls, frowning for a second before he smirks in amusement. “But it seems you were…”