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Gimboni pulls a gun, aims it at me, and cocks it.
“I can’t!” I cry. “I can’t. I love them both. Equally.”
“Love, ha!” His fake laughter grates on my nerves. “Who said anything about love. I just want to know which one’s life is worth more to you right now, in this moment. Otherwise, I’ll just shoot them both. Then you. Actually—”
He swings the gun and shoots Kincaid through the head. Blood splatter everywhere, coating the shelves and storage containers red.
I can’t help it. A small scream escapes as the man’s body falls.
“Choose,” Gimboni demands, bringing the gun to point back at Hendrick and Jac. “Now.”
I look at my men, my thoughts twisted in knots. “I can’t. I love you both.”
“Then,” Gimboni says, “you die first.”
As his gun swings my way, I squeeze my eyes shut. Then he pulls the trigger.
TWENTY-SIX
JAC
The pain of the bullet’s intense as I hurl myself into MG, knocking her safely to the ground.
Another gun goes off as hell breaks loose, but I don’t focus on that.
I don’t focus on anything except MG.
She’s warm.
Clinging to me.
Alive.
She’s fucking alive.
I hold her tight, stay on her, covering her as best I can because bullets fly.
It’s over in an instant, but it takes forever because in the heat of the moment, time seems to slow down.
There are tiny things I try to focus on. Her breathing, rough and uneven, along with the fact that she’s holding it together shockingly well. Not to mention there’s the pain where the bullet grazed my arm to concentrate on, too. It stings like a bitch.
The moment Gimboni killed Kincaid, I knew he was unhinged and shit was about to go down. So I waited, and thesecond he moved to pull the trigger at MG, I knew I only had milliseconds to grab her.
Thanks to Maximo and a little subtle non-verbal instruction by Hendrick, I’d come to find out that Hendrick and my cuffs weren’t securely locked. Thank god for good old Max for not leaving us to fucking die. We had been just waiting for the right time to jump up and fight, the moment where we’d all get the least fucking hurt—especially MG—but once it was clear that moment was never going to happen and Gimboni was going to turn his gun on MG next, I knew I couldn’t wait for Hendrick’s signal. She’d die.
MG is the only thing that matters to me. If it meant dying, I would have.
Fuck.
I would have died for her.
When the rain of hellfire calms around us, MG sags under me.
“Jac?” Hendrick’s voice reaches me. “Is she…?”
“I’m okay…” MG’s voice threads up, and I tighten my grip, not ready to let her go. It takes me a bit, but I finally do. I roll off her as a dark-haired woman darts in and shoves me to grab MG. “Shit, Lena! The Quinate arrived guns blazing. I saw the entire thing. Are you okay?”
It’s Harriet. Or Harry, as she calls her. Her friend.
