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~Charlotte~
SCREAMS.
Gunshots.
Successive explosions.
It’s a painful cacophony all around me, roaring through the building.
Matthew Priest tossing that grenade has turned a fierce battle into a warzone from hell.
The close-range detonation inside a munitions warehouse has set off a chain reaction of several other concussive explosions, flames roaring wildly throughout the space.
I take in the pieces left of the two Gatekeepers that Priest had been preparing to execute. The bastard succeeded, just in a roundabout, even more demented way.
There are bodies dropped all over the place, some Priest’s men, but too many also Cristian’s. Priest murdered them before they even managed to engage in the battle.
I strain to make out the second team that he sent in through the north side battling some Gatekeepers. There’s no sign of Priest now. I can’t see Cristian or Wraith anywhere either.
Or Cal.
God, Cal.
A split-second before the grenade went off, I saw him battling twenty-feet away from me. There wasn’t enough time for him to have sought out cover.
My gut twists at the possibility of what might’ve happened to him.
Oh my God.
“Fuck,” I grunt, forcing myself to bury the worst-case scenarios. I don’t know anything for sure yet. And this is Cal “Dealer” Austin we’re talking about. The man with endless lives at his back. The man who’s survived what would’ve killed most others several times over.
He's fine.
He has to be. I won’t accept anything less.
And I can’t right now.
I need to focus. I need to push through this, just like I’ve always done.
I need to win.
Groaning at the seemingly unending ache permeating every part of my body, the burn of the many grazes etched into my skin in too many places to count, I fight to pull from my pinned position beneath one of the steel beams that was torn from the mezzanine support after taking the brunt of the explosion.
I dove between some packing crates just in time, flattening myself to the floor before it came down. Thankfully it didn’t touch me, the crates keeping the beam off me. But there’s barely a couple of inches between me and it, so I’m trapped beneath it. And, shit, the crates won’t hold its weight forever either.
Digging my nails into the concrete floor, I fight to wrench myself free.
I’m pulled up short at the sound of Priest’s shout for his men to take cover.
In the next second, another blast rips through the warehouse over by the north side.
Holy shit.
The ground reverberates from the impact, glass exploding with an ear-piercing crash.
The skylight! Cristian’s position! Oh my God!
I hear the creak of scaffolding, followed by a chain reaction of heavy thuds, things collapsing.
