AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As my legs crumple beneath me, I hear gunfire echoing all around me. But my eyes are glued to the woman who stabbed me, her face contorted in such rage and grey eyes filled with pain as she takes the same cruel knife she shoved inside me and draws it across both of her wrists. Her body slumps to the ground before us, bleeding out from the ugly wounds marring her perfect skin. There is something incredibly familiar about her, but I can’t seem to place why.
My knees hit the ground, sending jarring pain through my stomach, and my vision blurs as I begin to fade from consciousness. I can feel hot liquid pooling around me and Gabriel’s body dropping beside me. I look down at my beautiful white dress, stained with crimson blood that’s spreading rapidly through the fabric, turning me red.
Muddled confusion makes me turn my head as I realize Gabe isn’t taking me in his arms like I expected. And despite my steady fall into darkness, I register that something is horribly wrong. That’s when I see the bullet wound and the blood soiling his suit. Icy terror grips me as I realize he’s been shot. Before the blackness swallows me, all I can think about is Gabriel and my baby. Ican’tlose them.
23
Gabriel
I mustblack out for a second because the next thing I know, I’m sucking in a desperate lungful of air as I open my eyes to utter chaos. My first thought is of Winter and our baby. And I sit up as I turn toward her, terror coursing through me. Searing pain shoots through my shoulder and chest. I know I’ve been shot, but all I can think about is my wife’s safety. She’s covered in so much blood, the crimson liquid seeping out from some gaping wound in her belly, staining her beautiful wedding dress.
The white fabric is so drenched in red that it takes me a minute to find where she’s been stabbed. I don’t have time to think about anything except staunching the flow. However, I can hear gunfire continuing to rattle off and the Devil’s Sons shouting commands.
“Don’t die on me, Winter. Please, don’t die,” I beg, numb with horror.
Starla collapses beside me. “I’ve called an ambulance. I’ll stay with her. The guys need you,” she commands, her tone authoritative and reassuring at the same time.
Anxiety rips through me at the thought of leaving Winter’s side. But when I look up and see the bastards returning fire on my men, dropping one of Philip’s friends as they dash for the treeline, I’m consumed with rage.
“You’ll go to the hospital with her?” I ask, torn between staying or helping my men.
“Yes, I won’t leave her side. Now go! You can come straight to the hospital after you kill those fuckers,” she says, her voice filled with more vitriol than I think I’ve ever heard.
As soon as my hands leave Winter’s wound, Starla’s take their place, pressing down hard to try and stop the blood from leaving my wife’s unconscious body. As I rise, I reach into my suit jacket, grabbing the gun tucked away there, just in case. I don’t care that my hands leave bloody smears across the fine fabric. I want to cause these men pain.
The majority of the wedding guests have ducked for cover, running inside to escape the onslaught of bullets. But to a man, my new club members are out, racing across the expanse between the building and the trees. They crouch and attempt to utilize any cover they can find as the fleeing men point their weapons haphazardly over their shoulders to shoot cover fire as they retreat.
Blind rage consumes me, and without a thought for my safety, I barrel toward the woods, prepared to take the men down. This is clearly a revenge attack. I’m sure of it after seeing Tiffany stab Winter before cutting open her wrists. It’s Mac’s wife who came back to haunt me for executing him, and I suspect these men are related to her, Mac, or someone else who was killed that night.
One of the four fleeing men goes down from a bullet, and from the way he hits the ground, I know he’s already dead. But the other three manage to make it to the tree line. Rico and I are the first to make the trees behind them, and we slow as their retreat becomes unclear. They must have ducked behind a trunk to hide since they couldn’t outrun us forever.
Skinny and Dallas join us moments later, slowing and raising their firearms as they scan the quiet woods. I signal for everyone to spread out, and we creep through the underbrush, trying to take silent footsteps as we scan back and forth.
A shot ricochets off a tree not two feet from my head, and Rico’s on the man in an instant now that the shooter’s cover is blown. Knuckles joins in as the two bludgeons the bastard into submission. They know not to kill him. Not until after we’ve questioned him to figure out the full extent of their plans to hurt us and who’s involved.
To my left, I hear an altercation break out as Philip finds another of the attackers. A volley of bullets ends with the blood-curdling screams that would indicate one of my men shot the asshole in a nonlethal and very painful place. From the way he collapses to the ground, I would guess it’s his knee. Two down. I think one more to go. Though, in the chaos, I can’t be sure.
I continue on, determined to catch every one of these fuckers. The forest is incredibly quiet now that I’m growing farther ahead of my men restraining the first two attackers. I sense one of my men creeping up on my left. Glancing, I confirm it’s Dally, who gives me a curt nod before we carry on.
I stay low and close to the trees, ready to take cover if the next man tries to shoot at us. That’s when a good-sized branch swings out from behind a tree, aiming straight for my throat. I dive left, barely making it out of the way as the man’s swing carries him out from behind the tree. I know him immediately. It’s Mac’s brother, Wyatt. He has the same casual sneer as his brother, and the glint of pleasure in his eye at catching me off guard makes me want to slap him.
Dally beats me to it, stepping around the tree trunk from the other side and catching Wyatt with a fist to the temple that makes Wyatt stagger.
“Fucking bastard. You think you can just waltz in here and kill us?” Dally demands, following his punch with a blow to the knee that sends a horrible cracking noise echoing through the trees.
Wyatt drops like a rock, screaming as he clutches his leg. It has to be broken. I don’t care. Crouching down beside him, I press my gun to his head.
“How many of you were there?” I demand.
Wyatt breathes heavily, his teeth clenched as he looks up at me with defiant black eyes. When he clearly doesn’t plan to answer, Dallas presses his heel to the guy’s knee.
Wyatt howls.
“How many?” I shout, my voice raising.
“Five! Fuck five! Including Tiffany!” he bellows, unable to hold back when faced with that level of pain.
Dallas immediately removes his foot from Wyatt’s knee.
