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Fuck, fuck, fuck. I had a clear shot of his back, but she was so tightly pressed to his body I couldn’t risk my bullet going through him and into her. I needed the others here, now.
“Zachary,” I said, hoping I could stall long enough for my boys to surround the fucking place. “Let’s talk about this.”
“Let’s not.” His voice was filled with fear, and why not? He was just some tech nerd with a gun. And I was willing to die for the woman in his arms. “I’m—I’m going to count from ten!”
“I’m going to fucking destroy you,” I growled back.
“A-and when I finish, if you’re still here, I’ll…you know…”
“You’ve never killed anyone,” I said, as cocky and brash as I could manage, hoping to goad him into further talk, instead of action. “What makes you think you can do it now?”
But to my surprise he started to laugh, high pitched and frantic and full of panic. “I know how to kill a girl, Mr. Lombardi.”
My jaw clenched, and it took all my willpower to keep my feet locked down.
“It’s surprisingly easy.”
“Come out here and face me like a man,” I shouted, “you fucking coward!”
But he only laughed again and started to count. “Ten…”
Oh Jesus Christ.
“Nine…”
“Rocky, are you ready?”
“Eight…”
Automatically, my legs braced, and my gun came up even before I even fully registered Peyton’s words or managed to yell a warning for her not to do anything stupid.
“Seven…”
And then I heard the briefest feminine grunt—followed by a blood-curdling scream from Zachary, and a gunshot.
I whipped around the corner on pure instinct, gun up, half afraid to see Peyton’s brains splattered over the wall. But she wasn’t dead. The two were flat on the floor and she had a kitchen knife held in both her bound hands, still embedded into Zachary’s shoulder.
She’d managed to twist around and stab the fucker, and it looked like he’d pulled the trigger and shot an innocent pillow.
I took all this in, in less than a second, and immediately shot at the ground beside the two of them. Because Zachary still held the gun, and he still held Peyton, and he needed to fucking know that danger was in the room with him, and he had more to worry about than the woman holding the knife in his flesh.
His eyes slammed across to meet mine at my gunshot, scrunched with pain and panic, and his own gun whipped away from my girl to aim at me. Good.
I barreled towards him with a roar, he still held Peyton tightly and I couldn’t shoot the bastard.
“Rocky!” Peyton screamed my name, while Zachary just screamed. His gun went off and I felt a sting.
“Let go of her!” I bellowed as I tore across the room, pain ripped through my body, but I didn’t stop. all I could see was the terrified pale eyes of the man I was about to kill, and before he knew what was happening, I’d grabbed his wrist aiming his gun under his chin and his fucking trigger bit down beneath my finger.
And his brains blew out the top of his fucking head.
“Rocky!”
The world became silent and still, save for a persistent ringing in my ears. And then a warm body was pressed to mine, fingers clinging to my vest. I was kneeling on the ground, and Peyton’s lips were all over my face, butterflying across my skin. I slowly raised my hand to her hair.
I’d almost lost her.
I’d almost lost her.
