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“Don’t worry,” I told her as the guys entered behind us and I heard the flinch-inducing sounds of guns being prepped for killing. “You probably won’t have to use it but there’s no fucking way I’m leaving you unarmed.”
“Oh god,” she said, her chest heaving, tits swelling over the shelf of her corset top as she accepted the gun into her hand.
“This is the safety,” I showed her. “You don’t have to cock it. This is safety on. This is to turn it off. Got it?”
She blinked, clearly overwhelmed. She wasn’t hearing me. She was going to fucking die.
Without thinking, I slapped her across the face and she cried out. All sound behind me ceased for a second before resuming.
Becca blinked, her shoulders settling, eyes clearing. “Fuck,” she said. “I needed that.”
“Safety,” I repeated, and she swallowed, flicking it on and off with her thumb, a red handprint coming through on her cheek.
“Got it.”
“You shoot anything that comes through that door.”
“But what if—”
“We’ll announce ourselves first if it’s us,” I assured her. “You can’t afford to hesitate, Becks. Do you understand?”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
She bent, lifting a small black trash can to her face, the gun still tight in her manicured fingers pressed against the side of it as she hurled and then set the can down to run the back of her hand over her mouth.
“Do you think he’s going to be here,” she asked.
I knew who she meant, and a sharp cold bit into my bones. If the guy who’d been after my Crows was here…
“If he is, I’m going to kill him,” I promised her. “He won’t get to you.”
She nodded. “Okay,” she said, repeating the word again and again, nodding as she backed up to the wall, stopping only when it blocked her from going any further.
I pointed a finger to the corner. “Stay over there, by the couch. From there you should be able to see someone coming in before they see you—”
“Ghost,” Rook growled behind me. “We have to move.”
“Remember,” I told Becca as she shakily moved to tuck herself by the couch in the corner of the room.
“Shoot first, ask questions later,” Becca finished for me.
“You got this.”
Grey held out two extra magazines to me, and I fed them into their places in the holster strapped over my chest as he snapped the buckle at my back, locking the whole mechanism in place. I was absolute shit with a handgun, but I only had so many blades.
“I see headlights!” We heard Axel outside the office.
“How long?” I asked, the question obvious. The only one that mattered. How fucking long did we have to hold out until Diesel and the others got here?
Corvus’ eyes darkened, and he tossed me my phone back. I tucked it deep into the left cup of my bra. “About sixteen minutes.”
It was going to feel like a goddamned decade.
I let my darkness rise within, felt it fill my chest with toxic air, breathe extra strength into my muscles as it danced with the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
I tipped my head to one side, cracking my neck as I double checked the mag in the Glock and slid it back into the chamber, pulling the slide back.
A delicious shiver rolled down my spine, and for one blissful second, I felt fucking bulletproof.
