“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Soon.”
Great, that doesn’t tell us anything.
Still in my arms, Kali rests her head on my shoulder and sighs in emotional exhaustion. “I’m gonna kill my husband.”
I chuckle.
No, she’s not, but I get the sentiment. I’m pissed at Dark, too. It might not be the same, but this was nothing but a clusterfuck.
There’s yelling in the halls, and a sea of gunshots ring out.
Not knowing whether it’s our men or security, I push Kali into the bathroom and motion for Sola to join us. We lock ourselves inside and wait like a bunch of damsels in distress, and I hate it. Every second we’re sitting ducks, waiting… waiting… waiting.
From the floor, Kali closes her eyes and hums in meditation.
Right beside her, Sola stares at her lap and grips the black device like it’s her only lifeline.
And me?
Standing by the door, I bite my lip and listen.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Ugh.
Waiting.
Why is this taking so damn long?
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Dark
Grittin’ my teeth, I rip my belt off, wrap it around my bicep, and pull the goddamn thing tight enough to stanch the geyser shooting out of my arm.
I’m over this entire year.
Over.
It.
Posting up in front of me, acting as my human shield, Pops eyes me over his shoulder, brow arched. “You about done?”
I roll my eyes. “Fuck off.”
He smirks, looking at my crappy tourniquet job. “You’ll live.”
Yeah. I’ll live. But I’m out of ammo, holed up in some kinda office, waiting for backup. They’re taking their sweet ass time. Sure, we got past the security stops. Pops’ van is toast, and we’re covered in blood—some of mine, but mostly a whole bunch of dead fucks.
Someone had the bright idea to drive his van through the resort’s front glass doors, right into a giant water fountain in the center of the lobby, and that’s when all hell broke loose. All three of us started shooting. Somehow, Angel ended up separated from us, and Pops saved me from dying by dragging me here.
Running a hand through his hair, Pops sighs, pulls his phone from his pocket, and makes a call.