Chapter 21 #2
Pulling at books and wiggling knickknacks as if he were in a modern-day rendition of an Indiana Jones movie, Ghost’s patience thinned. “You sure Asher was telling the truth? I don’t see fucking shit.”
“Me either,” August grumbled.
“I’ve got something,” Zain said.
Ghost straightened from his bent position at the bottom shelf. “What?”
“There’s a button here.” A soft click sounded and the snap of a lock releasing echoed through the room.
“I’ll be damned,” August murmured.
Ghost gripped the edge of the bookcase and pulled. Half of the unit swung wide open. Another door met them.
This one metal.
Rami grunted. “Great. That door looks about as thick as August’s head.”
Ghost bunched his fists. Fuck.
August pressed his fingers against the metal. Above the handle was a keypad.
Ghost inspected the smooth panel. “Looks like we need a code.”
Zain elbowed him. “Or a grenade.”
Ghost swung his gaze to his friend to assess if he was serious. The determined glint in Zain’s eyes confirmed it. Zain fished into his vest and pulled out a metal cannister.
Ghost smirked. “Why am I fucking surprised?”
“If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that you can never go wrong with a grenade,” Zain said flatly.
“All right. Let’s go.” Ghost backed up until he was out of the room. Rami, August, and Zain followed, with Zain staying closest to the doorway.
Using his teeth, Zain pulled the pin and then rolled the grenade across the office floor. They all crouched behind the wall, covering their heads.
Boom!
Thick dark smoke billowed into the hallway, making them all cough. When the dust settled, Ghost stood and shielded his face with his sleeve.
He stepped over pieces of the busted desk and the exploded bookcase, as well as mounds of drywall. A large hole ate up the wall where the bookcase had been, leaving just the buckled metal door standing. The lock was broken and dangling.
August approached behind him. “As soon as we open this, they’re going to fire.”
No voices sounded from inside. They were waiting. Question was, how many guards were protecting Hunter?
Rami lifted his rifle and pressed his back against what was left of the wall beside the buckled metal door. Zain and August got low, waiting with guns ready and aimed.
Ghost gripped the handle and yanked open the door the rest of the way. The metal groaned.
Crack , crack !
Bullets smacked into the door, the shockwave shaking the metal in Ghost’s hand. He stayed behind the door, using it as a shield.
When the guard’s fire ceased, Rami pivoted his weapon around the corner and shot into the bunker. Several blasts echoed through the space and screams followed. Rami stopped shooting and ducked back behind the wall.
Adrenaline fired through Ghost. “Hunter!” he bellowed. “I hear you’ve been looking for me. Come out now and I won’t shoot your ass.”
Silence.
August chuckled. “Why you lyin’ to him?”
“’Cause we’ve wasted enough time here,” Zain snapped.
“Last warning!” Ghost shouted.
No response.
He peered around the door. A short hallway littered with debris opened up to a larger room.
All he could make out from this angle was the lower half of a man’s body stretched on the floor.
A small sofa beneath bright fluorescent lighting was visible, as well as what appeared to be emergency food containers and jugs of water.
Water poured from a bullet hole in one of the containers and pooled on the cement floor.
Ghost moved inside, his rifle aimed, waiting for someone stupid enough to shoot at him.
He paused at the end of the hall and pressed his back to the doorframe. A glance to his left showed Rami, August, and Zain armed and ready.
The adrenaline that’d fired through his veins had settled. All that was left was fierce determination to put a bullet through the head of the man who’d tried to hurt Mila. He’d enjoy every fucking second.
He peeked around the corner. A bag of chips had spilled on the floor—the bastard had felt safe enough to have a snack—and next to it knelt Hunter. He held a handgun aimed at Ghost.
His old boss looked as if he’d dragged a rake through his frizzy red hair. His eyes were filled with fear, and beads of sweat ran down his face.
“Drop it.” Ghost’s tone was cold and dead. He sensed the guys moving, and a moment later they flanked him.
Hunter’s mouth firmed. “Get the hell off my property before I shoot!”
Ghost laughed. Really fucking howled. “Oh yeah? You and what army? All your guards are dead.”
Hunter blinked rapidly, as if he hadn’t fully realized how alone he was.
Ghost let off a shot. “I said drop it.” The bullet ripped through the sofa.
Hunter yelped and dropped his gun to the floor with a clatter. He stood to his full height. Six feet tall, Hunter wasn’t a small man. He was built and normally tough, but right now he looked as scared as a kid alone in a grocery store.
“You wanted my attention? Now you’ve got it.” Ghost took a few steps closer.
August chortled and Zain sneered.
A large scar tore up Hunter’s forehead. The sight of the rough, wrinkled skin made Ghost smirk. “You look like shit, dude. With all this money you’d think you’d find a better plastic surgeon.”
Hunter balled his fists. “Fuck you.”
“He’s not going to need a surgeon,” Rami said, as he moved closer.
Ghost grabbed Rami’s shoulder, holding him back. “Hang on. I wanna hear a little more. Why bother to come after me? You shoulda known I’d get to you first.”
“Pfft. You didn’t even know I was alive. If that woman hadn’t fucked up, you’d be dead. Should’ve known better than to hire a bitch to do a man’s job.”
Irritation inflamed his skin. Ghost rolled his shoulders back. “If you were a man, you’d have done it yourself. You had balls coming after me, but going after her? That’s pathetic, man.”
Hunter bristled. “I’m not done.”
“Take a look around, dummy. You’re not getting out of here alive.”
Hunter’s lips firmed. “I already set shit in motion. She won’t survive the week.” A salacious smirk spread across his ugly face. “She’ll be so used up by the time my guys are done with her, her pussy won’t be any good to—”
Ghost snapped. All rational thought left his mind. Before Hunter could finish his threat, Ghost lifted the butt of his gun and slammed it into his face.
Blood squirted and bone crunched. Hunter howled, his hands cupping his face as he fell to his knees. Blood oozed through his fingers. “My fucking nose!”
“Ow,” August said, tsking.
Zain snorted.
Ghost whacked him again, this time driving the end of his gun right into Hunter’s solar plexus. He buckled forward, choking and coughing blood onto the smooth floor.
“Fuck y-you!”
Zain laughed and delivered a kick to Hunter’s ass, sending him flat on his face.
Rami’s lip curled with disgust as Hunter screamed more obscenities at them. “Can we end this now?”
Ghost nodded. Satisfaction spread through him. Using his boot, he rolled Hunter onto his back. He stood over the blubbering, useless piece of shit and anger coursed through him all over again.
Not because Hunter had tried to end his life, but because he’d gone after Mila.
“This is for even thinking about hurting my woman.” Lifting his gun, he fired a shot into Hunter’s chest. The man’s eyes went wide and he gasped, his hands clutching the hole.
Then he aimed the gun between Hunter’s eyes and pulled the trigger. Blood and brain matter splattered the floor.
Silence fell.
It was done.
Rami’s hand landed on his shoulder, jolting him. “Let’s go,” he said, steering Ghost to the door.
August nudged him as they left the bunker. “Your woman, huh?”
Ghost slid him a don’t-fuck-with-me-look. “Shut up.”
All the guys snickered, and he had to fight the urge to shove his boot down their throats. But he didn’t regret what he’d said. Mila was his.
Whether he could handle that revelation or not.