Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 117249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“About twenty yards and they can have it,” I mutter.
Right as the words leave my mouth, the door at my side slams open, and three men burst out, firing frantically. I duck and roll, shooting as I go, knowing Major’s doing the same.
“What the fuck is happening?” Talon roars.
“They’re coming in from the tunnel! Taking fire now!” Major barks while firing and taking one down with a bullet to the chest.
“Bayer—get out of here!” I order, firing and hitting my target.
“Fuck that shit,” Bayer raises up, aims, and shoots directly into one of their temples.
“All down!” Major announces, still in position.
“Get the fuck out here,” comes from a voice I don’t recognize.
“Are there other access points?”
“We don’t know.”
“Watch that shit.” I do a scan over my shoulder. “We have three more doors before we hit the exit.”
Together, the three of us form a circle, moving cautiously.
It’s quiet, almost too quiet, and I’m listening for any kind of sign. We’re almost to our destination when Major stops. The next few seconds are tense before he shoves me to the side.
“Kingston—get down!”
The force of his body sets me off-balance, and I lose my footing, stumbling back. Everything goes in slow motion. A blast shakes the building at the same time the last door flies open and more men file out.
Plaster and dust fall around us, and bullets soar through the space. The air is thick, but I fire back, ignoring the searing pain in my arm and thigh.
There’s another shove, and Major’s in front of me, taking the brunt of the gunfire. He jolts back and my heart stops, knowing he’s been hit.
“Goddamn motherfucker!” I aim and fire furiously, wrapping my arm around my brother. “Hit! Major’s hit!”
I’m pulled from the back. Bayer may be a communications expert, but he’s a trained fighter. Regardless of being in civilian clothes with no bodily protection, he’s shooting over my shoulder until the gunfire stops.
“We’re there, Marine,” rings in my ear.
I position myself, slinging Major’s arm over my shoulder and hauling him out of the tunnel. As soon as the fresh air hits, we’re surrounded. Talon slides into my side, taking my weight, while Ford does the same on the other side of Major. We drag him to the waiting vehicle.
The van roars to life and we’re moving, bouncing roughly over rocks.
“Major, man, you with us?”
His response is a weak mumble.
“Shit, get us some light back here,” Ford orders.
Light bathes the space, and my eyes roam over him.
“Here let me look.” A harried but attractive woman sidles close. I recognize her from her picture as Ada Bayer. “I’m a nurse practitioner in the ER and pretty skilled with gunshot wounds.”
“Your husband may need your attention. He’s been beaten hard.”
“He’s good.”
My attention goes past her to where Bayer’s two kids are clutching tight to him. His arms are circled protectively, shielding them from what’s happening.
We give her some space as she presses her fingers to his neck and leans to his mouth. “Breathing shallow and heart rate erratic. Most likely, his adrenaline is carrying him. Do you know where he was shot?”
Ford takes Major’s weapons, and Talon makes quick work of removing his protective gear. Each of us conducts our own assessment. Blood oozes from under his armpit. I point to it, lifting his arm.
This time, he groans.
Ada gently skims her hand along his back and side. “I don’t feel a point of exit. The bullet is likely inside his chest cavity somewhere.”
The pain in my thigh radiates, spots filling my vision.
Major’s eyes open and dart around, focusing on me. “We get them?” comes out hoarse and ragged.
“Bet your ass.”
“Everyone good?”
“Yeah, and you will be soon.”
The spots return, and I sway forward, dropping his arm.
“Kingston?” Ford dips into my line of sight.
I shake off the dizziness. “Good.”
“Where’s all the blood coming from?” He jostles my legs, and I fall backward, the pain firing up my spine and down to my feet.
“Jesus, fuck, fuck, fuck! Ace is hit. Looks like his thigh. He’s in a pool of blood. Too much blood for a leg wound.”
Bodies shuffle all around me. Someone cuts the material from my pants, and a tourniquet is secured around my upper leg. Ada’s fingers press into my throat, her concerned eyes holding mine. Without her saying it, I know the bullet nicked an artery.
My eyelids grow heavy, and I suck in a deep breath. A rough hand closes around mine as the guys shout.
My mind clears, and for the first time in days, I let myself drift to Harley.
Then it’s black.
26
Harley
I’m in shock.
That’s the only explanation for what’s happening right now. Goosebumps pop on my skin at the same time a violent quake rocks through my body. Achilles’ face fills my head right before little dots take over my vision. The weight of my head becomes too much, and it falls into my hands.