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Seconds…it wasn’t even that.
But fuck, it felt like forever.
My finger moved too fucking slow, squeezing.
Crack!
A shot tore free.
Crack!
London’s blast came barely a heartbeat later.
Chaos descended as Nick and Caleb both dove forward from the steady stream of returning gunfire. I saw it all…and heard as I leaped into action. The faint sound of an engine starting outside made my stomach drop like a stone.
They were going to take her.
They were going to take HER!
“The FUCK you are!” I howled, and lunged.
Tobias was hit in the shoulder as he ran. It spun him like a damn top and dropped him to his knees. I caught the sight of blood. But I was already charging toward the machinery where they’d taken her.
“Get the fuck off her!” Vivienne screamed. “LEAVE HER ALONE!”
I just knew she was fighting, giving it her all…to protect her sister.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack crack crack!
A bullet narrowly missed me. The muzzle flare, neon in the dark. I aimed for that light and squeezed off a shot as Tobias pushed up from the floor behind me. But as we flew deeper into the shadows of the warehouse, it wasn’t Ryth’s brother who hit them first.
It was mine.
Colt.
No.
Not Colt.
The Beast.
He slammed into the dark outline of one of the Sons, slamming him back against hard steel. The grunt that followed was soon replaced by terrifying screams. Hands flailed as I took aim, desperate to protect my blood…but there was no need, the bullet would be wasted. My brother, the beast, grabbed the Son’s head in his massive hands and with one sickening jerk, snapped the bastard’s neck.
Crunch.
The Son’s knees buckled and he dropped to the floor. Only, the beast wasn’t done, not by a long shot. He followed the attacker down, slammed him to the concrete floor, and savagely attacked, driving his face into his neck. Sickening, tearing sounds came as he thrashed his head, savaging the male like an animal.
“What the fuck?” Tobias stared, horrified.
Rage flared as I jerked my gaze upwards, fighting the need to aim my muzzle in the Banks brother's face and roar, LOOK AWAY IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE IT!
But the truth was, not even I could handle what my brother had become.
Then there was a moan. A soft, fragile sound as Ryth called, “Tobias.”
