Page 6 of Declan

“Are you hit?”

“No.”

“Can you get up?”

With a scathing look, she got to her feet.

Another shot whizzed by, high and to the right, the bullet lodging into the wall causing plaster and debris to float above us.

“You hear that?” Autumn asked.

I listened, then I heard them—angry voices yelling from above us.

Fuck.

We were pinned down in the stairwell with backup still two minutes out. I quickly did a mental weapons check—with three full magazines I had enough ammo for five minutes tops, depending on how many tangos were down below. Alone, this would be a no-brainer. With Autumn there, I was weighing our options.

“How many mags you got?” I asked.

“Two full.”

“We’re going down.”

“Didn’t think we were headed back up, big guy.”

Smartass.

Then to my horror, shock, and definite anger, Autumn took off down the stairs, firing as she went. The woman had no regard for her safety, no thoughts of tactical strategy. She’d either watched too many Jason Bourne movies or she thought she was invincible. Autumn Pierce gave new meaning to guns a’ blazing.

“Slow your roll, woman.”

“Keep up, old man.”

She was absolutely going to find herself bent over my lap with a red ass. Something I knew she liked, something she’d asked for many times—only this time when I did, it wouldn’t be on her terms and at her demand.

The sound of automatic gunfire rang out and echoed in the small space. Wood splintered, bullets ricocheted, dead bodies littered the dirty concrete.

Six down, at least one more shooter guarding the exit, and more above.

“Reload,” Autumn shouted and I stepped in front of her while she exchanged mags.

With cautious steps, I rounded the last landing, finally on the ground floor. I calculated the risk and stepped around the corner, popping off three shots. The man at the door fell, but not before he got off a lucky shot. I clenched my jaw and waited for the burn to subside. Another day, another scar.

My left bicep throbbed and fire radiated down my arm to my fingertips.

Fucking hell, that hurt.

“Let’s go.”

No answer.

I glanced over my shoulder and my heart seized. Fury rushed through my body. And an emotion I’d only ever felt one other time in my life started to pound in my head.

“I wouldn’t do that,” the man said, and pressed the muzzle of his gun to Autumn’s temple until her head tilted from the pressure.

My eyes slid from the barrel to Autumn’s eyes. Nothing. Blank. Emotionless.

Dead and cold. A look I’d seen too many times. One that I despised.