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“Don’t argue with me on this, get in the fucking cage.” His grip on me tightens like he’s scared I’ll bolt.
“I may be female, Grimm, but…”
“It ain’t got nothing to do with the fact you’re a female.”
“Then give me one good reason why I can’t go back in there and kill those scumbags.”
Grimm comes at me fiercely, pushing me so hard that my shoulders hit the back of the truck.
“‘Cause, I’m in love with you and I can’t fuckin’ lose you!” He spits the words through his teeth like he’s angry at me for it, and I feel my skin tingle, and the tears flood my eyes.
“And what if I lose you?” I bite back at him.
“You won’t, not now that I got something to live for. Now please will you just get in the mother fuckin’ cage so I can go focus on killing the people who wanna hurt you.” It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me, and I feel like maybe I should kiss him for it.
“I’ll get in the cage,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him hard. “And when we get home, I’m gonna ride the fuck out of you.”
“Deal,” he smirks back at me, pulling away, eager to get back inside.
“Kick some ass, baby,” I call after him, jumping inside the back of the van and closing the door.
“Get her out of here,” I call out to Grimm as more men pile through the door. Men who are fucking shooting at us.
Rogue is still in shock, it’s the first time I've ever seen the girl look worried, and I somehow manage to dodge a bullet aimed at my head as I rush toward Squealer.
“Go, we got him.” Brax pushes Rogue forward when she stops to stare at his body on the floor. And Grimm drags her out through the back door, hopefully to safety.
The others aren’t far behind us, they were meeting Roswell to offload the guys we took from the house, and I really hope they hurry the fuck up.
“It was a bad hit.” Brax covers me while I check Squeal over. He’s taken a shot to his lower abdomen and there’s a lot of fuckin’ blood.
I grab one of the pillows from the couch and hold it tight over the wound. Flashes of Hayley bleeding out in my arms threaten to haunt me, but I push those thoughts away because I have to focus.
“Hold on, Squeal. I think it’s a straight-through,” I tell him trying to sound positive.
He doesn’t answer me, probably because he’s in too much pain. Shots are firing everywhere, ricocheting off the walls, while men drop everywhere.
The guy Grimm knocked out before he left comes to, and races straight at me. I use the hand that ain’t keeping Squealer alive to lift my gun and fire at him. And a direct shot to his chest drops him onto his knees. I check on Brax, who’s abandoned his gun somewhere, and is now fighting knife and fist.
“I know I can be an awkward prick sometimes, but you ain’t gonna let me die are ya, VP?” Squealer's voice croaks at me.
“Tempting, but no. Stay alive,” I warn him, being forced to watch as my club brothers fight off double the number of men.
“Oh, this must be killing ya.” Squealer chokes out a laugh, then winces in pain.
Troj snatches the gun off the guy he’s struggling with and tosses it at Brax, who catches it without hesitation and fires it straight through the jaw of the guy he’s grappling with.
“Jess, I can’t stay awake.” Squealer clutches at my arm, he’s looking pale, and his eyes are sinking and looking fearful. Shit, I’ve not once in all the time I’ve known the annoying fucker seen him look scared. And that fucking petrifies me.
“I’m losing too much blood,” he groans.
“Tell me something I don’t fucking know, Squeal.” I press my hands into his body harder, hoping that the pressure will stop him bleeding out. He goes fucking limp on me, and finally, I hear more guns firing and Nyx charges through the door followed by Thorne and Prez.
Behind them is Screwy, who takes one look at his brother before his rage takes over. He moves toward us like a tornado, crushing anything in his path to get to his brother. He lifts up the guy who has jumped on Thorne and throws him into the wall. Then twists the neck of the one who’s about to aim his gun at Tac. Kicking his gun over to me, he takes out his knife and slits the throat of a guy who’s trying to get up from the floor.
I keep the pressure on Squealer’s wound despite him being out cold now. I can still feel a pulse even though it’s fuckin’ weak.
Screwy trudges toward me, taking another guy out with a fist to the throat, before he crouches down and heaves Squealer onto his shoulder.
