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She stood there, her gun shaking in her hand, a little blood on her from the wound. “Drop your gun.”
“You fucking cunt.” He raised his gun, and I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her.
“Baby, run!” I launched myself onto his back, knocking him clear to the floor and making his head slam into the marble. Without hands, I was almost useless, so it was quite the physical feat to roll over and kick the gun just out of his reach.
The doors popped open, and more gunfire ensued.
“Get down!” I yelled.
Scarlett dropped to the floor.
Draven moved for me and grabbed me by the neck, choking me hard before he threw his fist into my face. He hit me so hard, he broke my nose on the first punch. “I will relish this moment as I fuck your wife?—”
I slammed my head into his face, stunning him for just a second.
Scarlett must have had her gun again, because a gun fired nearby, but it missed its target.
Then Draven was thrown off me, a heavy body coming to knock him flat onto his back.
Draven reacted quickly and punched his assailant. He moved fast, fighting like he had experience in the ring. He threw a punch and then a kick, knocking the gun from the other man’s hand before kicking him in the face.
I realized it was Scarlett’s father.
The two men went at it, neither having a weapon, both fighting with their fists and nothing else.
“Scarlett, don’t shoot.” I watched her train her gun on the fight, unsure when to pull the trigger to hit Draven and not her father. “There’s a knife in my pocket. Cut me free.”
She tossed the gun on the floor then dug her hand into my pocket, pulling out the big blade inside of the sheath. She pulled it free then cut my zip ties.
In that short amount of time, both men had landed substantial blows on each other. Dante was bleeding from the mouth, but so was Draven. Dante had to be fifteen years older, but he still held his own pretty well.
“Dad!”
I joined the fight, knocking into Draven’s side and sending him across the floor.
Dante dove for the gun he’d dropped.
Draven stayed down for a second then spun his leg, catching my ankle and forcing me to flip down to the floor. Then he got on top of me, grabbed his dropped gun, and pointed it at me. He forced me up, using my body as a shield with the barrel against my temple.
Dante pointed his gun, but his hand shook.
Scarlett stood behind him, in a mess of tears.
“Let him go,” Dante said in a strong voice.
The fight started to wind down. It was just a pile of bodies with lingering gunfire.
Draven continued to pull me back farther, back toward the staircase and the rest of the house. Then he let me go, the gun pointed at the back of my head. He took one step back then another. And then, once he was blocked by the wall, he took off and moved into the kitchen and the back part of the house.
Dante dropped his gun.
Scarlett ran straight to me and jumped into my arms, not caring about the blood that continued to pour down my face.
“Enough of this shit.” Theo stepped inside with his shotgun and took out the remaining guys who still put up a fight.
It was silent after that, just the sound of Scarlett crying in my arms.
I held her against me, bleeding all over her, and just breathed. Breathed because it was over—and it was over because she’d saved my life. She always had my back, even if it meant risking her own life. I squeezed her and cherished her in a way I never had until that moment.
