Page 121 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

The girl sobbed a little. “Thank you.”

Cassidy watched her phone, her hands, the people behind her, the valet lane, the throng of people still trying to get across the barrier.

Something pricked at the back of his neck. He didn’t like how out in the open they were.

He began to speak his concern into comms when a squeal of tires cut him off.

Steele’s voice cracked in his ear. “Shooter! Get down!”

Cassidy reacted before the words finished, but he was still too late.

He yanked Xander away from the girl, turned his own body into the line, as the first round slammed into his lower chest like a sledgehammer. The second hit struck higher, just over his heart, driving the air out of him so hard the world flashed white at the edges. Pain detonated across his ribs and sternum, hot and brutal.

The third round burned across his shoulder.

Cassidy spun with the force of it, grabbed Xander, and took him down under him.

More shots split open the night.

Glass shattered somewhere behind them. The sidewalk vibrated as people ran in every direction, crashing into each other, men and women shouting, tires screeching as drivers panicked and tried to move through a blocked lane.

Someone fell across the back of his legs. The crowd trampled over and around him but he kept Xander sealed beneath him.

His right shoulder screamed and his chest wouldn’t expand.

Xander was yelling his name.

Cassidy heard it through the pain and ringing in his ears.

He tightened his arms, not letting Xander go, not until he knew the shooting was done.

Strong hands grabbed his jacket.

He growled without sound and locked down harder.

“Morrison!” It was God. “Move!”

He couldn’t.

For half a second, his body didn’t understand orders. It only remembered the man underneath him and the savage need to keep him alive.

Xander’s hands found his face.

“Cassie!”

That name tore through his shock.

Xander’s face was inches from his, eyes wide, red-rimmed and terrified, mouth open around his name, hands shaking in his beard.

He blinked down at him.

He’s alive.

“On your feet, Morrison,” God commanded again. “Now.”

Cassidy forced air into his lungs and pain answered.

He pushed up and the team collapsed around them.