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“Go fuck yourself, Jace.”
“Listen, bitch, either the Italians or the Irish are gonna walk out of that door, neither of who you want to mess with. Give me the gun,” he hollers.
He takes a step forward, and I take one back.
“You don’t even know how to use that thing,” he sneers as he keeps coming toward me.
I have a choice, and both scare the hell out of me. If the Irish are here, it’s likely the MC knows where I am. God, what I wouldn’t give for Linc to ride up on his bike and take care of this asshole in front of me. Since that’s not going to happen, I can either hope it’s the Irish who emerge from the warehouse and they’re here to rescue me, or I can shoot this motherfucker and get the hell out of here.
“I said give me the fucking gun.” He lunges for me, and I make my decision.
I pull the trigger, and Jace falls back on the gravel, blood oozing from beneath him. I stare at his prone body on the ground and lower the weapon.
Nothing happens.
I don’t freak out or cry. Jace doesn’t suddenly get back up and come after me like the nightmares I’ve had over and over again. Nothing happens—until I hear the rumble of motorcycles.
When I see the six motorcycles come to an abrupt halt in front of the warehouse, relief washes through me. Five of the bikers storm through the front door of the warehouse as Jude runs toward me. I’m still holding the gun on Jace, even though he hasn’t moved. Jude walks past Jace’s still form, taking a brief look at the motionless body.
“Hey, Charlie, It’s okay. We’re here.”
He reaches out for the gun in my hand, and I release it from my death grip. When he secures it behind his back, my arm and the rest of my body begin to crumble to the ground.
“Woah, woah, I got you, sweetheart. You’re alright.”
Jude wraps me in his arms as my body begins to shake uncontrollably. That’s when the tears come, big teardrops cascading down my cheeks. I couldn’t control them if I tried, and being that it’s all I can do to stay upright at the moment, I don’t.
“Where’s Linc?”
I catch Jude’s stoic gaze that gives nothing away.
“Jude, where is he?” I refuse to believe that after everything we’ve gone through, everything we’ve endured, this is the end. I will not accept that Jace won in any way, shape, or form.
“He’s alive, but he’s not doing great. Last I checked he was still in surgery, but he’s alive, Charlie.”
The tears have turned into wracking sobs that take over my entire body.
“The Italians are taking care of,” Ozzy says, walking up and surveying the scene. “You did good, sweetheart,” he says, looking at Jace’s body. Ozzy bends down and checks for a pulse. “Still alive but barely.”
I don’t know whether I should be glad I won’t have his death on my conscience or upset my aim wasn’t better.
“Come on, Charlie, I’m taking you to the hospital to get checked out. How you managed to hit him with one eye swollen shut is beyond me,” Jude tells me. “Must have been my expert tutelage.”
I huff out a hollow laugh. I appreciate him trying, but the only thing that will make me feel better is an update on Linc.
“God, I’m still in this stupid bikini,” I remark as Jude herds me to a car that must belong to one of the Irish.
“Stay right there.”
Yeah, like I’m going anywhere.
Jude jogs back from his bike with a change of clothes. I give the wad in his hand a questioning look.
“Did you really think Lucy would let me leave the cabin without something for you to change into?”
Oh my God, I didn’t even think to ask about my best friend.
“Is she okay? All I remember is Jace shot Linc before whatever he injected me with knocked me out.”
