Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 114551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
My words fall away as Easton leans forward in his seat, those fiercely loving eyes locked on mine. “What do you need, Pretty?” he prompts and just as he gets to his feet and strides toward me, the fogginess claims me, sending me back into the dark pits of nothingness.
A sharp pain tears through my arm, and my eyes spring open to find Zade hovering over me, urgency flashing in his eyes. “What?” I rush out. “What’s happening?”
He doesn’t get a chance to respond before he grips my cannula and rips it from my arm, the machines around me furiously beeping. Blood spurts from my arm, but before I can even scream, the blanket flies off me and his strong arms scoop beneath me, pulling me into his chest.
“Fuck,” Easton grunts, rushing toward the door, Dalton and Sawyer heavy on his heels as they reach for their guns. “We’re out of time.”
“Out of time for what?” I panic, trusting the boys blindly, fear pounding through my veins.
“Empire,” Zade mutters, his jaw clenched. “They know what we did, and they’re coming for us. It’s a fucking manhunt, Lamb.”
“Congratulations,” Dalton says as a piercing scream sounds from down the hallway, gunshots echoing through the hospital. “You’re officially a fugitive.”
With that, Easton barges out of the room, taking a protective stance in the middle of the hallway, his gun held out as he quickly fires off a few rounds. “Go. Go. Go,” he roars over the noise.
Zade wastes no time, shooting out into the hallway, Dalton in front while Sawyer takes the rear. Bullets whiz past my face, and I try to curl into Zade, not knowing who the hell they’re after. Do they just want Zade or are they after all of us?
Easton holds down the fort, protecting each of our backs as he fearlessly fires back. Zade runs as Dalton leads the way, slamming through the fire exit and into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time, my weight not slowing Zade down an inch.
Sawyer and Easton barge through to the stairwell, slamming the door behind them, and with Empire behind us, we shoot down to the ground floor before breaking out into the lobby, the rough jostling making my head spin as my chest aches.
I struggle to hold onto consciousness as I cling to Zade, trying to breathe through the pain, but the heaviness slams back. “Zade,” I breathe, the movement too much for me to handle, the grogginess clouding my head.
“Hang in there, Lamb,” Zade grunts. “We’re almost there.”
Gunshots tear through the hospital lobby as we race toward the main entrance, the bullets shattering the glass as people scream, ducking for safety.
“Fuck,” Dalton grunts, pressing his hand to his side as he glances back over his shoulder, assessing the situation, his gun held firmly in his other hand. “I tore my fucking stitches.”
“Stitches?” I rush out. “Why the fuck do you have stitches?”
Nobody responds, but then I remember the very moment in the bottom of that fucked-up tomb when the blade sunk into my chest. I screamed, distracting the boys and opening Dalton up to suffer a stab wound.
Shit. How could I have forgotten? They all suffered while trying to save me, just like they’re suffering now.
We finally make it across the lobby as Sawyer fires back, giving us a chance to get through the door before making it out into the parking lot. My gaze shoots left and right, not knowing where the hell to go, when a familiar SUV screeches around the corner, Cara taking up residence in the driver’s seat.
My eyes widen, and before the SUV has even come to a full stop before us, the doors are already open. The boys rush into the backseat, and Zade pushes me into Easton’s arms before moving to the driver’s seat. He takes one look at Cara and lets out a ferocious growl. “Move.”
She scrambles through the car, crawling through to the back and uncomfortably settling between Dalton and Sawyer, her ass barely hitting the leather before Zade’s foot slams down on the gas, propelling us through the parking lot.
I frantically grab Easton, my head spinning as my chest aches. “Easton,” I breathe, feeling myself beginning to slip away.
“It’s okay, Pretty. You’re safe,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing through my hair, gently soothing me as he holds me tight. “I’ve got you. You can sleep now.”
The grogginess fades, the fog lifting as I finally open my eyes and find myself in a warm bed with Dalton’s protective arms wrapped around me. I take a moment, breathing him in as I snuggle into his side, doing my best to ignore the pain radiating through my chest.
I take a deep breath, trembling at the pain that blasts through my left lung, and let out a heavy sigh. “You okay, Firefly?” Dalton murmurs, his thumb brushing over my waist.