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She turned on the ball of her foot.
Sharp knee-weakening pain slammed into her from the side, and she lost all the air in her lungs. Fire erupted up her spine before Roman or Maddox could empty their arms of their charges. Rhia stumbled, the girl in her arms falling with her. Gravel cut into their knees and palms.
She risked a look over her shoulder where the pain erupted as the girl scrambled to join the others. Clouds drifted apart and moonlight glinted off metal sailing through the night sky right before it found its target for a second time.
Burning flared up her shoulder.
“Get behind us!” Roman and Maddox become a wall in front of her.
They weren’t alone anymore.
“Get the girls to safety and then come back for me,” she lied to Maddox. She pushed at his shoulder when he shook his head no. “Go! We can take care of this.”
Roman pivoted. “You’re hurt!” He ran his hands over her body looking for the bullet wound.
She hissed when his hands found it. “It’s just a flesh wound. Nothing too serious.”
She nodded. “I know. I know.” Turning back to Maddox she pushed at him again. “Go, damn it!”
“Don’t fucking die on me. You got that? I’ll be royally pissed. I am NOT going to be the one standing in front of your men telling them I didn’t protect you.”
“Good idea,” she shot back. “Sounds like a plan.”
Not wasting time, Maddox nodded, scooped up their frightened packages, and ushered them away from the gunfire. No telling where he would stuff them, but anywhere was better than here.
Three douches with long dark coats and darker eyes stepped from the shadows. Nasty-looking guns pointed their way. Oh, this was going to get ugly. Fast.
“Come on, fuckers fight me like real men. Put the guns down,” Roman called.
“You’re out of bullets, aren’t you?” she asked, looking around for better protection than thin air.
“Yep.” He tossed his Glock on the ground and readied for the battle hauling ass their way.
Oh shit.
“Maybe don’t taunt the bad guys,” she interjected with a deadpan expression. He didn’t seem to get the message because Roman only laughed.
Trench coat number one tossed his gun to the ground and lunged toward Roman. He reared back and connected a kick to the guy’s solar plexus sending him retracing his steps. Whiplash from the sudden change of direction was definitely a strong possibility.
And then the other two joined in. Fists flew. Grunts and groans. Roman took a hit to the face but countered it with a stronger blow to the ribs.
Lucian, bless him, had to have the best timing. He flashed past her and joined Roman. Dodging swings and kicks. They worked together, taking down one and then another until only one was left. Covered in blood, they faced off as she looked on.
She tucked, rolled, and slid behind a large truck she suspected was used in the hauling of Dimitris’ precious cargo. Keeping to the shadows she found her vantage point, and gun raised, she aimed the barrel and waited. The sensible side of her told her to run, but the part of her that kept her knees locked and arms raised said she never left friends behind.
Before she could use her last bullet, wood splintered as Roman knocked his attacker into a nearby tree. Lucian followed up with a right hook across the face. Everything slowed. The man, bleeding heavily, did what she thought impossible.
Before Lucian could deflect the blow, he took a shard of thick wood to the chest.
Several bolts of lightning lit up the night sky and highlighted the horror in front of her.
Surely she couldn’t be seeing what just played out.
Roman roared, lunged, and snapped the other guy’s neck. But it was too late.
“No, oh my God, no.” She ran to them, uncaring if there was someone else looking to put a bullet in her. She skidded to her knees and tried to stop the bleeding.
“Help me, Lucian, you have to help me remove it.”
