Page 56 of The Santas Who Stole Me

Keeper’s back ripples with anger. I can’t imagine it would be at Georgie. He must know she’s lying.

The basement door that Chad entered from squeaks, and Chad jerks his head to see who caused the sound. The woman, who I assume is the agent that tricked Georgia, walks up to Chad with a smile on her face. I hate assuming. I don’t work well when I’m attempting to gather information with a gun in my hand. My finger itches to kill everyone rather than assume anything further, which is exactly what I do.

The second his attention shifts, my finger squeezes the trigger. I realize there is a ninety-seven percent chance he will shoot me back, but I’ll take the risk. This will give Keeper a chance to move. Calum’s deal applies for me too. Georgie is priority so as long as I breathe, that will reign true. Now Keeper can run like hell and get her away from this.

Chad turns slightly, and the bullet pushes his shoulder back causing him to stumble. Surprise and anger mark his face. His jerky movements swing his weight to the side, and my second bullet hits him at least three inches too far from the heart.

Then all hell breaks loose.

Chad doesn’t fire back at me. Instead, his outstretched hand remains steady when he stares down the barrel at the woman’s head. The gunshot rings out, a bullet knocks her down, and Georgia screams before Chad points the gun back to my chest. I briefly note the woman’s blood pooling beneath her.

Any other person might feel sorry for her, but I certainly don’t. She walked away knowing my girl was stuck down here. Additionally, I have never felt sorry for anyone.

Not even when Georgia bared her soul about what she endured with Chad, I didn’t feel sorry for her. I was amazed she made her way to us. Georgie is too sweet and innocent to deal with the hell Chad put her through. Never again. She has three men willing to go against the devil for a chance to kneel at her feet.

Chad glares at me, then slowly touches his bullet wound with his free hand. Red seeps across his chest, dripping less quickly than I would like. His fingers spread, and he runs them down his shirt, wiping the blood off. Glancing back at me, disgust and hatred fill him, mirroring my own thoughts. His finger begins to curl on the trigger. He’s made up his mind and decided to end this for both of us. The sound of glass raining on the dirty concrete distracts him. His head turns to the right to see the window has been broken, and a bullet slides through his eye socket. His body falls back, but not before he lets out a string of rounds from the Glock he was holding.

There’s a slight burn on my leg and a pinch in my chest, but I ignore them. The only thing I want is to find my way to Georgia. Keeper has her in his arms, and the chain remains on the ground. Her head is tucked into him, and he’s whispering to her. Her body trembles, and she must be crying. I fight the urge to shoot Chad in the face again. Calum’s shot didn’t leave much face left anyhow, so I keep my feet moving. It’s taking much longer than I expected to cross the small basement.

Calum enters from the outer entrance, and he calls her name and then mine as I drop to the floor. Crimson red fingers reach out for her but not far enough. It doesn’t matter. They have her, so she will be safe now. I made sure of it with my last breath.

Chapter Thirty-Two

GEORGIE

“Zee!” The panic in Calum’s voice is something I’ve never heard, and my head snaps up.

No, no.

Zeke is laid out on the ground, the blood pooling around him darkens as it pours from his body. I push off Keeper’s chest, and he sets me down on my feet before I kneel next to Zeke. Keeper turns him over, and I see the hole in his shirt and shoulder and another through his dark jeans. My core twists. This can’t happen.

“Hold his head, cookie, this is going to hurt, so don’t let him crack his skull back against the floor.”

Cradling my hands under his head I focus on his face. He is beautiful even sweaty and pale.

Calum tightens something around Zeke’s leg. His eyes pop open, and he lifts his head in a grunt. He gives me a grin before passing out again. My tears drip onto Zeke’s face and mix with the dirt and blood on his skin. I should wipe them off, but instead, I hold his head like Calum asked.

Calum rises to his feet and pulls a phone from his pocket. “Lee, push those death certificates through to the feds, time of death last ten minutes.” He listens for a few more seconds then jams his finger on the red button and nods to Keeper.

“Death certificates, no. He’s not …” I can’t speak. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth.

Keeper checks his phone, then hauls Zeke off the floor in one smooth motion and throws him over his shoulder. “Georgia, move now. I can’t carry you both.”

He has never had that tone with me, not since the rooftop where this started. Somehow, I make my feet follow him, and as I look back at Calum, he juts his chin to the door, instructing me to go, dismissing me. I guess I deserve that. I have no clue why he’s staying behind, but after the mess I’ve caused, I don’t feel like I deserve to ask. I have to go with Zeke, so I run after Keeper.

He opens the back door of his truck and looks at me. “Help me get him in.”

I do as Keeper says, scooting against the leather and leaning over to pull Zee the best I can by the shoulders. Keeper gives him a shove and slams the door. I hold his head up as we barrel down the street. Keeper doesn’t speak, and I keep my fingers on Zee’s neck. His pulse is faint, but it’s there. I count the slow pulses until we stop moving and B yanks the truck door open.

“What about the raid?” I ask.

“Marge handled it. Lee said the doc will be here in five, the table is cleared,” B says in a grim tone. He grabs Zeke, and they disappear through the backdoor.

I claw at my chest, willing my heart not to break. Why did Calum say death certificates? I look at Keeper with shame, too scared to follow Zeke.

“This is all my fault. Please, help him.” A sob gets stuck in my throat and I rest my head in my hands, ignoring the rust color that’s dried on my fingers.

Keeper doesn’t say anything when he pushes my hair back and examines my face.