Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
“Pleeeease?”
“For fuck’s sake.” Brandon huffs as he stands up, and Cyn hides her chuckle behind her hand as he heads for the front door.
And I realize my heart is pumping fast all of a sudden. Something isn’t right. Something about how hard they knocked? I don’t know, I just…
I should get out there. I need to do something.
“Who is it?” Brandon asks as he heads for the door. “If you’re selling religion or any of that shit, we don’t want any.”
My headphones are off, and I’m standing up from the couch. Don’t open the door. The words tumble through my mind as I head for my own door. Whoever it is, I can get rid of them, but only if Brandon doesn’t—
I watch him open the door on the screen.
And he’s knocked over on his ass as the men force their way inside. I hear silence, then screams of shock.
Fuck.
Four of them. The one in front has a shotgun, the two behind him are carrying themselves like this isn’t their first rodeo while the last one hangs back. Professional. Practiced. It looks like that last guy is concealed-carrying, probably a pistol, as he turns to watch the corridor. No way I can get the drop on him. Maybe if I was on the next floor or something, but not from here. What the fuck?
All I can do is put my headphones back on and listen in. If they touch a hair on her fucking head, I’ll kill them all. Sure, they can shoot me, but it won’t stop me. I’ll drag them all down to hell if I have to…
The sound of the girls screaming is louder through the headphones, and I have to grit my teeth.
“What’s going on? Who are you?” This from Cyn as she backs away, joining Keryn. Probably not a good tactical move, making one target rather than two, but the look of relief on Keryn’s face as she slips her hand into Cyn’s is a comfort to me.
“Which one of you is Cynthia?” Shotgun is grinning, and I want to punch every one of his teeth in.
“I—I am. What’s this about? I don’t know you—”
“Well, perhaps your boyfriend can introduce us. Joe, bring that little fuck Brandon in here.”
I watch as Brandon is marched into the kitchen, looking dazed and terrified. He knows who these men are. What the fuck has he gotten those girls into?
“Steve, look, man, I don’t know—fuck!” Brandon doubles over as shotgun Steve drives the stock of his weapon into his gut. Cyn and Keryn both jump, their eyes wide, then scream as Steve points the barrel their way.
And I’ve had enough.
I don’t fucking care if they have numbers and a tactical advantage. This isn’t my first rodeo either. I’m not proud of being dishonorably discharged, but my two years in special forces taught me a thing or two.
One of those was that a determined man can achieve a lot that others would think impossible.
I’m dimly aware of Steve’s voice still droning on through the headphones as I toss them aside, grabbing a kitchen knife off the counter before approaching my door at a crouch. My one advantage: they still don’t know I’m here. Better make that pay.
The door isn’t locked, but I still have to reach up to turn the handle.
“Whoever you are, go back inside. This is police business.”
Fuck. The guy at the door is a cop? I couldn’t see it from the angle of the living room camera next door, but he’s wearing a badge and everything. I fucking hate dirty cops.
“I said, go back inside. This is none of your concern—”
His eyes are focused at normal height, as you’d expect. I mean, who would be coming out of their door at a crouch?
Me, that’s who.
I roll into the corridor, and his reactions are slow. By the time he’s reaching for his sidearm, my knife is slicing across the side of his right thigh. I’d go for the Achilles’ tendon on anyone else, but cop boots are likely to stop a kitchen knife in its tracks and I don’t have time for a second go.
He shouts out, but he’s already collapsing, and any thought of grabbing his gun is forgotten as he puts his hand out to stop himself. I slam my elbow into his face and he goes limp, unconscious, as he drops to the floor. I snag his weapon as I come up.
Killing him is a complication we definitely don’t need, but I have to remind myself of that as I watch him squirm.
Any surprise advantage is gone, but I know where the other three are situated. I raise my leg and kick out hard at the door to Keryn’s apartment, then follow it through and whip the butt of the gun at head height into the space behind it. It’s guess work, but it’s effective. The second guy falls to the ground screaming, clutching his exploded nose as I round on Joe, Brandon and shotgun Steve.