Chapter 23
Nolan
Post lifts a raised fist to halt our movements towards the exterior of the barn. “ You hear that? ”
The sound of my heart pounding in my ears?
Or my blood street racing through my veins?
Or my heavy breathing sounding like I’m fucking roaring into the early morning.
Yup.
I definitely hear all that shit.
“Helo,” Post adds with a point upward.
My head immediately snaps in that direction to search the sky both relieved and disappointed I can’t spot it.
Not being able to see it means we’ve got time but not being able to see it means we have no real fucking clue where it’s landing.
“ Noooooooooooo!!!!!! ” howls Bunny, redirecting my attention to the far, open distance, near the front of the stable. “ Nooooo!!! ”
“ Rabbit, ” leaves me in a low, panicked mutter, body immediately pushing itself into gear. “ Rabbbbitttttt! ”
“ Muttttt!!!!! ”
Yelling leads to the man that has his arm curled around her throat whipping their frames slightly in my direction, her body being used like a fucking shield.
What kind of fucking coward uses a pregnant woman as a shield?!
“ I’m coming!!!! ” With my weapon drawn, I hastily weave around the property, gaze oscillating between scouring for ice patches to avoid and melted spots to take, the reminder bellowing out of my chest once more. “ I’m coming, Rabbit!!!! ”
“ Nolan! ” Post unexpectedly shouts from somewhere behind me. “ Three o’clock! ”
There’s barely a second to register the announcement before the bullet darts directly under my chin, damn near clipping me in the throat.
Instantly, turning to eliminate the issue isn’t necessary due to Post returning the same shot – with actual success – unfortunately, his focus on the assailant attacking me blinds him to the one firing on his six.
“ Watchout! ” I holler in tandem with realigning my aim.
Our sheriff manages to dodge taking one to the chest yet gets himself clipped in the portion of his shoulder not covered by his vest. “ Fuccckkkk! ” Rather than fall to the ground or hesitate to retaliate, he fires at the same time I do, landing two in the guy’s dick while I get two in the center of his face.
My mouth isn’t even granted the opportunity to move to verify his status when he flails his head forward. “ Go! Go! Go! ”
With Post covering my ass, I continue to close the distance from one end as Little November and Kid come in from the other.
Like the warrior she’s always been, Bunny twists and jerks.
Jerks and wrestles.
Does everything possible to try to free herself.
Sadly, the harder she fights, the harder it is to get any sort of shot.
“You won’t hurt her,” the buzzed head team leader robotically declares during his retreating. “But I will break her fucking neck.”
“You break her neck you don’t get paid!” Little November retorts, veering wider in search of an opening.
“I just gotta deliver her body.” He grunts with a smug grin on a tightening of his arm. “Contract doesn’t specify it has to be alive. I checked.”
“ November? ” I call out, my maneuvering mimicking his.
“ No clean shot! ” he promptly replies.
“ Kid ?”
“ No! ”
“You’re not gonna get a clean shot,” informs the male that’s got our wiggling woman plastered to the front of him, proving to be the best worst vest a person could ever ask for.
“You go for my arm; you could clip her.” He shifts ever so slightly.
“You go for my leg, and you could hit one of her femoral arteries. She’d bleed out.
” The sadistic smirk that slides onto his face has my finger even more anxious to pull the trigger. “You’d have to watch her die!”
Slight movement out of the corner of my eye causes me to snap my glare to my fiancé and command, “ Don’t, Kid! ”
His head immediately moves in resistance.
“ Don’t you fuckin’ do it! ”
“It’s what he wants, Woods,” Little November explains. “He wants you to get pissed-”
“I am pissed!”
“He wants you to react,” our personal gun for hire swiftly proceeds. “He wants you to shoot, miss, worry about where you hit her and then shoot you with that Dessert Eagle that’s not holstered anymore.”
My glare cuts to his other hand that’s now comfortably gripping a pistol it wasn’t split seconds ago.
Fuckme.
What do we do?
Do we risk her life?
Do I rush at him and risk mine?
Take the gamble that Little November will fire before something can happen to me?
That they can patch me up later?
Maybe it’ll be fatal, but at least The Kid and Bunny and our son will live.
At least they’ll be safe.
At least they’ll live on.
Have each other.
“ November… ” calmly escapes as I prepare to execute the plan.
“ Affirmative, ” he states, clearly aware of what I’m planning to do. “ On your mark. ”
“ N- ” is surprisingly all that escapes.
Rapid, aimless gunfire, unpredictably rips through the morning sky, clipping trees.
Posts.
Abandoned tools.
But…not a single person.
The noise successfully distracts the adversary, which Rabbit doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of.
One harsh headbutt backwards catches the man off guard causing him to release her and stumble backwards. Her swift dive out of the way presents November with the perfect chance to execute a kill shot.
And he does.
Completely unphased by the commotion, he unloads a single bullet into the side of the male’s head, instantly dropping him to the ground.
“I’ll insure the threat is secure,” he proclaims at the same time he cautiously approaches what I’m pretty sure is a dead body. “Evaluate our target.”
“ Our girl, ” Kid airily corrects during his rush cover.
“ Our woman, ” I echo, my steps as speedy as his.
Our frantic and feral motions don’t cease despite the slippery patches.
Or the slush piles from where the ice has started to melt.
Or the frozen animal shit that crunches loudly under our boots.
No.
Nothing stops us from getting to her and falling to our knees the instant she’s within reach.
“You good, Rabbit?!” Paranoid patting is attached to my aggressive visual searching. “You shot?! Baby shot?! Anything broken?!”
Kid’s hands promptly recheck all the areas I just finished. “You okay, baby?!” His scanning is just as panicked as mine. “You feel okay?! Our baby okay?! You gonna be okay?!”
She lovingly places an ice-cold palm on each of our cheeks to aid in her reassurance. “ I’m okay. ” Her fingers sweetly flex, and it’s impossible not to momentarily lean into them. “ We’re. Okay. ”
“ Thankfuck, ” is grittily grumbled.
“ You sure? ” Kid anxiously inquires. “ You sure, sure? ” His face nestles into her grip. “ Like make ten sequels sure? ”
The light laugh she presents successfully warms me in ways only they can.
Between the car shit he says and the beautiful sounds she makes I know everything will be alright.
I know we’ll be alright.
As long as we have each other, as long as we’re in this shit storm and any other together, we’ll survive.
No matter what comes at us.
“We all know that franchise did not need ten sequels, Kid.” A loving pat is delivered to his face. “Everyone except you.”
“You might be concussed,” he playfully pokes prior to helping her onto her feet.
“You can’t even spell concussed,” I lovingly tease, doing my best to ignore Little November kicking the corpse around to verify its lifelessness.
“And neither can you, Mutt, but we still love you.”
The sound of my name combined with the feeling of her in our arms stuns me silent.
It’s more important to hear her and feel her than it is to correct her.
Besides.
I’ll spank it out of her later.
Safehouse first.
Slapping that ass second.
Retrieving her ring from my pocket barely precedes me hastily sliding it rightfully back onto her hand. “Kid always has to wear his. You have to always wear yours.”
An almost blood sugar spiking smile is presented as she gives the object a loving squeeze. “ Understood. ”
“No fight?” My brows skeptically twitch. “Kid’s right. You might be concussed.”
“Concuss my left tit, Grandpa Turismo .”
“ There’s our woman ,” cheekily precedes me catching our fiancé wincing. “Careful, Kid.” I adjust myself to hold more of Rabbit’s weight. “Those ribs are still fucked.”
“What happened to your ribs?!”
“That asshole Brax is kicking,” he casually informs.
“Brax?”
“Braxton November,” our support warmly introduces upon his arrival to us. “Happy to be a part of your rescue team, ma’am.”
“Ugh,” groans the beautiful woman we’re wrapped around, “please don’t call me ma’am.”
“She’s got a weird thing about her age,” Kid impishly explains.
“Only because neither of you were born when Blink 182 was singing about it.”
Their small chuckles are cut short courtesy of Post shouting, “ Overhere! ”
Reworking our course to meet him closer to the stable Bunny was dragged from reveals to us the unfathomable identity of our interference runner.
“He’s been hit,” Post announces, hand doing its best to apply pressure to where the bullet got him earlier. “I took out the guy, but I was too late.”
Rabbit attempts to peel herself out of our grip only to be met with reluctance.
No.
Fuck.
No.
I’m not letting her near this fuckface or that soul sucking puppet master he calls his wife ever again.
Rather than verbally insist that she’s fine, she gently strokes each of our backs and gives them the same pat she gave to our faces only minutes ago.
Afterward, she untangles herself and transitions to McAdams’s side.
He struggles to smile through the pain when he says, “ I’m glad I could help save you again. ”
“ Again? ” Kid and I question together.
“He…” the mother of our child gingerly wraps her hands around his to hold, “he helped me escape the first time around.”
Alright.
Man’s not a total fucking monster, but who stays with someone who does the shit she’s done?
Why didn’t he get himself out?
Why didn’t he try to be a better man?
For himself?
For his fucking son?
“ End this, ” the bleeding man pleads other palm landing on Rabbit’s. “ End. Her. ”
Our woman slowly nods, determination undeniably erasing whatever get to safety plan we had.
“She’s asleep in the bridal suite.” This time a full fledge vile filled grin grows across his face. “ I had one of the mercenaries swap my tea with hers. ”