AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It’s a deadly dance as we all work together to rout the pieces of shit who dared to threaten my people, but they’re starting to turn tail and run when I finally make it to the head of the alley.
I round the corner, staying low. It’s boxed in at the other end, trapping Payton and Luis in the narrow passage with nothing for cover but a metal dumpster and a stack of wooden pallets. It means the only way to get them out is the way they got in.
“Logan, Dante,” I call out, jerking my chin to indicate what we need to do.
They move into position, and I beckon Payton and Luis forward while my seconds lay down cover fire. Payton’s got a length of broken pipe in her hand—smart girl, since she’s out of firepower—and Luis advances with his weapon at the ready, knowing damn well that it’s not over until we’re out of here.
One of the last West Point holdouts opens fire from across the street, shooting the gun out of his hand.
“Motherfucker,” Luis screeches, stumbling into the pile of pallets behind him.
“Get up,” I shout as bullets start tearing chunks out of the concrete next to my head, driving me away from the alley and cutting off their exit. “Come on!”
Payton drops her pipe and scrambles across the alley, snatching up Luis’s gun from where it’s fallen. She hisses, no doubt from the hot metal, but doesn’t hesitate as she moves in front of him and takes up a protective stance, weapon raised, as he extracts himself from the broken pallets.
“Madd, incoming!”
The warning comes a split second before a fresh wave of gunshots ring out, and I spin to the side as Luis and Payton both dive behind the dumpster with a string of curses.
“Get those fucking weasels out of here,” I shout to my people, turning back to face the street and help make that happen. My men step up, finally driving the last few stragglers back, and I duck back into the alley. “Now, Payton. We’ve got to go. You good, Luis? Let’s move.”
Payton stands up, taking me at my word, and starts toward me. “Maddoc, are we—”
Whatever she was gonna ask cuts off as she suddenly flies backward, her body slamming into the brick wall behind her and her chest blooming with red.
“Payton!”
Luis is closer, but I’m already moving and I get there first, vaguely aware of the last West Point shithead—the one who just took her down—racing away up Jefferson. I press down on the wound, shouting for my brothers, vaguely aware that Logan’s opened fire on the shooter but that both of them are staying close. Covering me instead of chasing him down.
“She’s breathing. She’s still breathing,” Luis repeats, stabilizing her head and keeping her airway clear.
But it’s the kind of wound that’s gonna take more than the two of us to keep it that way. My hands are instantly soaked in hot blood, my nose assaulted by the metallic tang of copper, and the only thing keeping me from losing my shit is that we haven’t lost her.
“Logan,” I yell, refusing to take my eyes off Payton but trusting that they’ll do what it takes to help me get her back to the house. “Get the car! Call Shane! Get him to the house!”
Shane’s not a doctor, but he’s a Reaper, and hands-down I’ll trust that over credentials any day. And he definitely knows his way around a bullet wound.
Payton’s breath is nothing more than a shallow, painful-sounding wheeze, but her eyes are open, slowly blinking up at me, and her fingers scrabble loosely at my wrist.
“Hold on,” I order her, silently cursing when I hear sirens in the distance. The kind that would make our lives a whole lot more difficult.
Then my brothers are there, Logan and Dante lifting Payton while I keep pressure on the wound. And somehow, we get her into the back of the Escalade, Riley scooting all the way over with eyes as wide as saucers before she whips off her shirt and stuffs it under my hands, helping to slow the bleeding.
Logan’s behind the wheel this time and he peels out, followed by a few other cars from the Reaper members who showed up to help us end this shit. They follow us, knowing that if either the cops or West Point gets on our tail, it will be their job to get them back off.
“Come on, stay with me,” I tell Payton, focusing a hundred percent of my attention on her since I fully trust my people to handle the rest right now.
Payton slow-blinks at me again, her eyes seeming to have trouble focusing and her skin deathly pale. She’s barely hanging on, and it pisses me off to no end that this all came down for something so fucking useless.
There’s no way I would have authorized her to go after that fucking weasel, and she knows it.
“Why’d you have to do that?” I demand, guilt swamping me. She tries to answer me, her whisper is so faint I barely make it out. “I just…”
“What was that?” I lean closer, and she takes a breath that rattles like death.
“Just… wanted to make you… proud. Show you… show you I… can hold… my own.”
I grit my teeth, that guilt all but choking me. She was one of the first to ever swear allegiance to me. She’s been with the Reapers since the beginning. I was never gonna give her what she wanted from me, not on a personal level, but I damn sure appreciate and value her loyalty to what I’ve built.
