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I’d just lifted my rifle when the first shot left the tree line and whizzed past my head.
“You fucks, I like my face,” I shouted as I started toward them, slipping into that peace as I pressed the butt of the rifle to my shoulder and kept my eye trained on the night vision scope.
Easily picking out where they were lying on the ground, maskless, guns in hand and shooting in our direction—terribly.
But just as Kieran and Jentry broke off to check more of the trees and Maverick’s signature bursts sounded to my left, another sound had me coming to a jarring stop.
It shouldn’t have. It was gunfire.
We’d been surrounded by it for a while now.
But this wasn’t sharp, clear firing in the open air. These were rounds muffled by the structure of the enormous house behind me.
And I thought my heart would give out right then because it meant they’d made it inside.
All training and all logical reason fled as the need to rush inside and protect Willow overwhelmed me. But before I could take a step in that direction, Maverick was beside me. Shoving me to the side and barking orders.
“Clear the outside, then push in.” When I hesitated, he repeated, “Clear the outside first.”
I looked around wildly before my attention fixed on the giant house, my entire being screaming to go there. Be there. Protect what was inside there.
Stop them from getting in.
They were already in.
Stop them from getting Willow.
I’d destroy anyone who got close to her.
“I know,” Maverick ground out. “Diggs, I know. My wife and baby are in there. So fucking clear the outside.”
“Fuck,” I yelled as more gunfire sounded in the house, then forced myself to turn away from where I’d left my soul and did what I always should have.
My job.
Heart steady. Eye trained on my scope as the four of us moved through the hidden parts of the estate before pushing toward the house. That disturbing peace settled over me like a comforting weight as we eliminated the remaining threats outside.
WILLOW
Before that night, the only time I’d heard a gunshot had been the imitated sounds they’d created for film or television. And yet, I found myself surrounded by it. Caught in a warzone cloaked as a beautiful mansion.
When Dare and I had gone running at the sound of yelling earlier, we hadn’t even made it halfway down the hall before Dare had commanded, “Go back,” in a soft tone that somehow still had me rushing to follow his direction.
I’d paced the length of my borrowed room for what felt like hours but had probably only been five minutes before the first two shots had sounded, immediately followed by another two and another...
A smarter person would’ve dropped to the floor or searched for any kind of cover, considering the large windows I’d been near. But I’d frozen. Again.
Tensed body shaking, head slanted as I’d listened to the quick, almost rhythmic bursts, broken up by the louder pops seeming to come from everywhere and with no sense of reason.
Because as soon as the shock faded enough to realize what was happening outside the walls of the home, I remembered who Dare sent into fights first, so I knew who had delivered those first shots.
It felt like I was holding my breath as those achingly long minutes passed, trying desperately not to think about what was happening while also praying I would continue hearing those short bursts because it meant Diggs was okay.
And in the deafening silence that followed, I was sure my heart would give out as I waited for the next sign from him.
But then I nearly screamed when my phone vibrated from where it rested on the nightstand. My heart forced out harsh, unforgiving beats as it and my lungs struggled to work properly as I rushed for the table.
Not realizing until I was scooping up my phone that I still didn’t have Diggs’ number.
