Chapter 43
Three days later, I’m spray-painting Kane’s bathroom when it finally happens.
The bright pink paint drips down his perfect white walls, forming hearts, stars, snakes, juice boxes, and quotes.
I can’t wait for him to see it, but as soon as I feel it, I drop the can and turn.
I’m eager for this to be over. I’m not the type to sit around and wait, so it’s been hell.
Three days of being locked in the house with increasingly paranoid Sai brothers and their guards was enough to drive anyone crazy, so I’m almost gleeful when the house rocks from an explosion.
I have no idea what took Butcher so long, maybe he was licking his wounds or trying to wait us out so he could pick us off one by one, but it seems he’s finally run out of patience.
Removing my gun from my holster, I grab one of my blades from my thighs.
Like the brothers, I’ve taken to being armed at all hours of the day just in case.
I refuse to be taken alive again by Butcher or let him win.
It ends tonight. Lightning flashes outside the big windows as I kick off my shoes and pad silently across Kane’s bedroom.
Rain lashes the windows, making it hard to see outside as I open the door.
I shouldn’t have worried about being quiet, however, because I hear coughing and yelling, then another explosion followed by gunfire.
My heart races, and I want to throw myself over the railing to the three floors below and make sure they are okay, but I need to be smart about this.
Being stupid gets you killed, and besides, they can look after themselves.
Peering out into the top floor hallway, I step over the threshold, carefully shutting the door, and head to the banister, where I look down.
I can’t see much, but I can hear fighting from up here.
I know by now Zayn will have triggered his contact to keep the police and fire departments at bay for as long as possible to give us time to finish this without Butcher being spooked.
I turn off the safety on my pistol and head to the weapons’ cache on the second floor. Dodge showed me all of them yesterday. They are planted all over the house.
I just reach the stairs when the giant, supposedly bulletproof glass of the arched window explodes inwards. Throwing myself backwards in a roll, I duck behind a potted plant and glance around, my gun lifted.
My heartbeat slows as my adrenaline centers me.
When a man swings in through the window on a rope, I’m already firing.
He drops dead onto the carpet, the rope hanging through the opening.
When no one follows, I tiptoe closer and around the body to cut it loose.
I hear more smashing and crashing downstairs, and I know they are probably doing it on every level.
Kneeling next to the guy, I tug his mask off and check his pulse to ensure he’s dead.
He has no ID, the weapons he carries have no serial numbers, and his gear is tactical.
Mercs. They are paid muscle—good but not as good as I am. It means Butcher has more firepower and men than we thought. I need to get to that weapons’ stash. I’m good in a fight, but you don’t bring a knife or knuckles to a gun fight.
Ripping off my hoodie, I toss it down over the broken glass and hurry over, still crouched, then descend the stairs. Halfway down, I stop and aim. Two men in similar tactical gear are sweeping the hallway from the broken window they climbed through.
There’s no point being quiet, since the gunfire will cover anything anyway, so I fire in rapid succession, and they are both dead before they can turn.
Covering the distance between us, I check to make sure they are gone and then clear the floor as swiftly as I can.
I find three more men toward the back of the house, and they meet the same fate before I head back to the main stairs, frowning at the glass everywhere.
It’s going to be a bitch to clean up, but it’s also slowing me down.
Glancing at one of the dead bodies, I check his feet before inspecting his friend.
His are smaller, so I unlace his combat boots and try them on.
“Why are your feet so fucking big?” I hiss before sparing him a sad look.
“You know what they say about big feet. What a shame you’re an asshole .
. . and dead. Sorry to all the future pussy you could have had.
” I slide his boots on, giving up on stealth.
It’s more important that I don’t cut myself up and leave a blood trail.
Climbing back to my feet, I pick up my gun just as I feel one press to the back of my head. “Don’t fucking move.”
“Does that ever work?” I ask curiously before I drop my head to the left to avoid the shot of surprise he gets off, then I spin, sweeping out his legs. He goes down hard, and I clamber over him, sliding my knife into his eye. His scream echoes around the floor, and I wince as he thrashes.
“Oh my god, get it out!” he roars as he bucks, and I struggle with the slippery blade, trying to free it from his eye socket.
“I’m trying,” I say as I twist the handle, the sound and sight making me gag as I try to get it free.
“Shit, sorry, it’s stuck.” I keep twisting as he yells until he finally passes out, and when I get my weapon free, I look down.
“Sorry about that.” I pat his face before picking up his gun and standing above him.
I shoot him three times in the chest then stare in awe at his semi-automatic.
“My precious,” I whisper as I holster my pistol and keep his instead.
Finders keepers. Swinging the strap over my shoulder, I head to the stash.
The wall looks the same all the way down, but I move three steps from the painting and press my hand into the pot Dodge showed me.
There’s a light and then a click as the safe pops open.
I stuff my pockets with knives and grenades, then I swing a shotgun over my shoulder before heading down the next set of stairs to the first floor.
Sparing a look outside, I see the Sais’ men fighting more men, using cars for cover, but I leave them to it, knowing it’s a distraction. They are trying to split our forces, which means Butcher will be here.
I don’t have time to worry about Kane, Neo, and Zayn. I’m trusting them to hold their own as I stumble to a stop with a wince. Eight men turn to look at me where they were trooping toward the stairs to come up.
“Hey,” I say slowly, trying to think of a way out of this that doesn’t involve me looking like Swiss cheese. I’m too pretty to die that way. If I’m going to connect with the afterlife, then I want it to happen in some hilarious, grand way. “Funny story.”
“That’s the one, grab her!” someone commands.
Yeah, fuck that. Reaching into my pocket, I clutch a grenade, pull the pin, and throw it. I’ve always wanted to try one, and since I won’t have to clean up the mess, I might as well.
The man at the front looks at the grenade that rolls between his feet and then me before he picks it up and throws it at me. Yelping, I catch it. “The fuck? Finders keepers!” I toss it back.
“Happy birthday,” he responds and throws it to me.
Snarling, I deftly turn the gun around, grip the barrel like a bat, and swing it at the grenade. It flies through the air at them before exploding.
“Merry Christmas.” I grin as the man groans on the floor. “I can’t believe that shit worked.” I gape down at the gun I just used as a bat before I swing it around and step over their bodies.
The gunfire suddenly stops on the first floor, and I hesitate before I hear Kane’s voice, which brings some relief. “Stand down!” he yells.
I try to peer over into the foyer to see what is happening, but a crunch of glass has me spinning around to see a man sneaking up on me. By the time I turn, though, he’s already throwing a knife.
Grabbing a metal serving tray from the table to my left, I yank it up just as the blade hits it. It stabs through the platter but saves my life, and the merc charges at me. Twisting the tray, I slam it over his head and then down onto his neck. The tip of the blade finds its home there.
He drops to the floor, and I crouch next to the plant and table and peer below to see what is happening.
My heart stops when I get a good look. Neo, Zayn, and Kane are on their knees with guns against the backs of their heads from more mercs.
Their guards are pressed against the wall with their hands above their heads.
Why did they surrender? The Sai brothers would rather fight to the death.
Butcher steps into my line of sight, and I have to bite back my snarl. My hand inches toward my gun when three bodies are thrown down, and I freeze in shock and horror.
Taylor, Lauren, and another woman.
Lauren is sobbing, curling into Taylor, who’s glaring at Butcher defiantly. The left side of her face is swollen, her lip is bloody, and there is a gun to her head.
Kane glances up and sees me, shaking his head before looking away.
They surrendered to keep Taylor and Lauren safe.
“Where is she?” Butcher asks, and I glance back in time to see Neo’s head jerk to the side from the backhand delivered with Butcher’s gun.
“Little pet, come out, come out, wherever you are. I brought you some presents. Come and play!” he shouts, his arms wide open as if to present the scene to me.
The left side of his face is completely covered in gauze, but I see burns extending across his skin, making half his face dip, and his left hand looks shaky and unusable.
He has my family down there, however, and when I don’t respond, he chuckles and lifts Lauren.
Taylor screams, reaching for her sister, and my heart explodes from my chest in fear.
I always wanted to keep them safe from this part of my life so they could have a better one than me, but I failed.
“Don’t you touch her!” Taylor’s head smacks against the floor from the force of a blow.