Page 91 of Cash

Shit.

I rolled to my knees and crawled in the direction of the kitchen.

Just as quickly as the ear-splitting sounds disrupted the peace, they stopped, leaving an eerie silence. I heard Cara whimper, Cash grunt, and my own heartbeat pounding as I reached the pantry, stood, and made quick work of grabbing the weapons Cash had hidden.

The familiar weight of the Glock in my hand did nothing to calm my nerves. I was reaching for the HK when for a second time the world exploded. The blast hit, shaking the house.

Cara screamed.

The switch flipped.

The part of me I’d tried so hard to quash, to forget, flickered back to life.

Darkness infused. A feeling I was so well acquainted with I wore it like a second skin.

I heard the footsteps. I heard boots crunching over the glass.

With the Glock shoved in the waistband of my jeans, the stock of the HK fixed perfectly in the pocket of my shoulder, I thumbed the selection lever to fire and moved through the kitchen. Rounding the corner, my first target came into sight and I pulled the trigger. The second tango turned his head in my direction, another smooth pull and he dropped next to his buddy. A third was halted at the blown-open front door and retreated.

Game fucking on.

I slipped farther into the dining area, glanced over at the now empty couch that Cara and Cash had been sitting on. Cash popped up off the floor, Cara in his arms, her small body squished against his chest, a face full of fury.

“Cover me!”

Three quick bursts in the direction of the front door gave him enough time to run across the room and disappear down the hall.

Then I silently waited.

I saw the barrel of his weapon first. I adjusted my aim, slowly pressed the trigger, taking out the slack, leisurely pulled in a breath, and a heartbeat later the asshole leaned his body through the door. My shot rang out and he hit the ground.

“Exfil. Now. Back,” Cash barked his orders.

Cara still tight against his chest, his left arm banded around her, Sig up and at the ready in his right hand.

“You lead,” he continued.

I did a quick onceover. Not seeing any blood, I turned and quickly opened the full-of-holes back door. I waited for gunfire. When none rang out, I slipped through and scanned the backyard. Nothing. Silence. No sirens. No neighbors yelling.

“Clear.”

I took off for the back gate hoping that if there was someone I couldn’t see waiting, I’d be their target.

“Twenty-two thirty-six,” Cash said from behind me.

I had no idea what he was talking about until I saw the keypad. I punched in the code then pushed open the back gate.

Nothing.

No gunfire.

Trusting Cash to take care of Cara if I stepped out and caught a round, I maneuvered into the alley.

“Clear.”

“Go right. Fifty yards down, silver Ford.”

I took off in a sprint, keeping my HK up and ready. Cash was on my heels. A few seconds later—that felt like an eternity with Cara exposed—I saw the silver sedan.