Chapter 35
Blood colors his shirt dark red as Axel collapses, bringing back memories of the first time I thought he was dying. My vocal cords go raw before I even realize I’m screaming.
He shot Axel.
I struggle against Romero’s hold, right up until he points the barrel back at my head, still hot from shooting my brother.
“Shhhhh, Quinn. I don’t wanna have to hurt you. God, it’s the last thing I want to do, but at least we’d go out together. Like Bonnie and Clyde, lovers against the world. What do you think?”
“What? No! Absolutely not!”
“I don’t like that idea either.” He chuckles. “I’m coming down the stairs. Anyone moves, and Quinn joins Axel in Hell. If I’m forced to kill her, then what’s the point, right? None of us get what we want. Put your guns down. We don’t want any accidents on the way down.”
I’m waiting for an opportunity to break his concentration, or sabotage him somehow, but it’s not easy with my head being a finger twitch away from repainting his wall. So I walk as carefully down the stairs with him as I can, willing neither of us to trip until there’s a real way out.
Outside, gunfire fills the night. There’s another explosion.
Screams. But here, everything is scarily quiet.
The stairs creak as we descend. There’s a pained gurgling sound from Axel as he struggles to keep breathing.
The tension between everyone in the room is so tight and present that it feels like I should be able to reach out and touch it.
I keep expecting someone to do something wild and clever that gets me out of Romero’s clutches, but maybe that just happens in movies.
“You’re all being so good. I’m glad you understand the gravity of the situation. I’m just going to assume that it’s time to cut my losses, but if all I walk away with is Quinn, it will be worth it. Now, hang back.”
Priest, Sinner and Colt. Even Hellfire. They’re all frozen, their guns on the floor right in front of them, but I don’t doubt that all it would take is one unexpected movement for the room to erupt in violence.
I’m just praying Romero isn’t the one that starts shooting.
My brother is already groaning on the floor.
I don’t want anyone else hurt because of me.
If we get this over with fast, maybe they can get Axel medical help. “He won’t hurt me if you let us go. He’s… well, he won’t. Right?”
“I will if I must, but it’s up to these gentlemen.” Romero caresses my cheek with the barrel of the gun. “What do you say? Does she live to see another day?”
I think I’m going to be sick.
Priest growls. Sinner’s practically vibrating, like the tiniest thing will launch him through the air to tear out Romero’s throat.
Colt’s fingers twitch. Hellfire sneers as he follows us with pitch black eyes.
Their guns might be on the floor, but I have no doubt any of them can kill just as easily without one.
What a mess.
Romero backs us towards the front door. If he gets me out of here, it’s all over. But if someone makes a move, we might all die. A desperate man is dangerous, but more likely to make mistakes. There has to be something I can do.
He pushes the front door open behind us. The gunfire becomes ten times louder. A step back. Then two. His heel thunks as it catches on the threshold. His gun points up for a precious second.
I kick my heel backwards as hard as I can. A pained grunt tells me I connected with something sensitive. God, I hope I just crushed his balls. I dive forwards, hoping to get away, but even as he hisses between clenched teeth, his steel grip locks on my shoulder and yanks me back.
There’s the explosion of a gunshot and his hand loosens as Romero topples backwards, out through the door.
Axel, clutching at his gut with one hand, has his gun in his other, a wisp of smoke still leaking from the barrel.
Then he groans and loses the grip on his gun.
It hits the floor with a clatter and he collapses with it.
Romero forgotten, I leap to Axel’s side. “Axel! Lie still!” My hands do nothing to stop the bleeding. It’s hot and sticky under my fingers. I look around, helpless.
Then Colt is at my side, already tearing his shirt off. “Gotta stop the bleeding. Help me roll him over.”
“Right.” I do, but what I want is to be held and comforted while I have a mild panic attack, not think about gaping gut wounds and gang wars. Maybe after my brother stops bleeding out.
“Sinner, take care of Quinn.” Priest points at me as he runs for the door to deal with Romero. Except, he stops, looking briefly confused. “Fuck, he’s not here.”
“Let him go,” Hellfire says. “We got what we came for.”
“Sorry, boss, no can do.” And then Priest is out the door.