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Elijah
Gunfire fills the church, and before I realize I’m doing it, I shove Snow behind one of the large speakers at the front of the altar and use my own body to shield her.
I knew this was a bad idea. I knew nothing good could come from using our wedding to bait whoever is fucking with us, and yet I allowed her to continually reassure me.
“Stay right here. Do not fucking move until myself or one of your brothers tells you to.”
Snow nods frantically. Her hand slips up the skirt of her dress and reveals a gun. Where the fuck did she get that from? “I’ll be okay,” she promises.
I watch her for another moment, but a loud explosion to the left of the building pulls my attention away from my bride. One of the exits has been destroyed, and guests are panicked as they try to escape the chaos.
“Elijah!” Storm shouts from behind one of the other speakers, and I quickly make my way to him. Stray bullets fly around me, but I don’t have time to try to dodge them right now. I have to get my wife the fuck out of here and figure out who the hell is doing this to us.
“Where are Wynter and Emerson?” I ask quickly, my eyes locking on two men in full combat gear as they push through the crowd. Without so much as a thought, I aim at the first one and fire, hitting him in the throat, the only bit of skin not covered with gear. Quickly, I move my aim to the other one and fire. The moment the bullet penetrates through his forehead, he drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
“Rayne took them out the back. You should get Snow out as well.”
I glance at the back exit and then at Snow across from me. Her dress is still immaculate despite the rubble around us. She’s been far enough away from the explosions and gunfire that she hasn’t been tainted by it yet. “I have a bad feeling.”
“What do you mean you have a bad feeling?” Storm snaps. “Get my sister the fuck out of here.”
“Not through that door.”
Almost as if my words summoned them, the door swings open and three men in the same gear as the rest of the attackers walk through with guns drawn.
Snow’s face pales as their sights set on her, and dread seeps into my chest.
“Where the fuck are our guys?” I shout.
“I don’t fucking know. We’re outnumbered by a long shot!” Panic isn’t something I ever expected to hear in Storm’s voice, and I expect if we make it out of this church alive, I likely won’t hear it again. “Where the hell is Everett?”
I glance over the speaker, scanning the church until my eyes lock on my cousin above the crowd in the upstairs pews, a rifle trained on the men approaching Snow.
Storm follows my gaze and I swear he lets out a relieved breath. “We need to get her out of here.”
“All the exits are covered, and I’m not risking walking her into a gunfight.”
“As opposed to sitting in the middle of one?”
I glare at him, but my focus is back on my wife. I have to get to her, but bullets are flying everywhere and there’s no way I’ll make it back without being shot.
“Grab the girl, and let’s get out of here.” One of the men nods toward Snow and her eyes widen.
Panic assaults my senses as she lifts the gun to point at one of them. Her hands are steady and sure despite the fear in her eyes.
The men look at one another, their faces covered with balaclavas, and then they start laughing. As if the idea of Snow being the one who shoots them is preposterous. Her eyes narrow on one of them, she takes in a deep breath, and then she pops off three shots in succession and they drop like flies.
Storm lets out a shocked breath as pride fills my chest. My little warrior.
“Get her out of here, Elijah.”
I look up to where Everett is picking off the men who come into his range. I need to draw his attention to cover me while I get to Snow, but he’s too focused on taking out the enemy.
“Elijah, don’t,” Snow shouts from the other side of the altar, her eyes wild with fear and adrenaline. If it was any other time, I would be finding somewhere to bend her over and fuck her until she couldn’t breathe, but sex should be the last thing on my mind right now. All that matters is getting her out of this building.
Everett finally looks down at me just as I push myself off the speaker and leap toward Snow, and he immediately starts picking off the men aiming at the stage. There are so many of them, easily four dozen, maybe more. Who the fuck has this much firepower behind them? As far as I know, the Russo and Saint James families have been running this city for the last twenty years without so much as a whisper of challenge, so where the hell has this new enemy come from?
Pain radiates through my side as I hit the ground, and by the terror in Snow’s eyes as she scrambles toward me, I know I’ve been hit.
