Chapter 5 Jinx #2
"Then consider it a request from a guy who just took a bullet for you." I push past him, one hand pressed to my side, the other gripping my weapon. Blood seeps between my fingers, hot and slick. "Now let's get the fuck out of here."
The ground floor is chaos.
Alarms are blaring now, red lights strobing, guards converging from every direction. We fight our way through a reception area that looks like it belongs in a high-end spa, marble floors and tasteful artwork, now splattered with blood and littered with bodies.
My vision keeps graying at the edges. I ignore it.
"East exit, fifty meters." Asher is half-carrying me now, his arm around my waist, my blood soaking into his tactical vest. "Marlee, what's your position?"
"North side. We've got a window. Thiago's holding but we need extraction now."
"Dom, Kira, can you reach north side?"
"Negative." Dom's voice is strained, rougher than usual. "Roads are blocked. We're on foot, coming to you."
"Copy. Everyone converge on the east exit. We're getting out."
We burst through a set of double doors and into the cold night air.
The facility's grounds spread out before us, manicured lawns and decorative hedges, the kind of landscaping designed to make visitors feel welcome.
Behind us, the building is lit up like a Christmas tree, alarms screaming, guards swarming.
"There." Asher points to a maintenance shed at the edge of the property. "Cover."
We run. Or rather, Asher runs and I stumble alongside him, leaving a trail of blood on the perfectly manicured grass. The shed door is unlocked, and we tumble inside, collapsing behind a riding mower and a stack of fertilizer bags.
"Let me see." Asher pulls out a flashlight, shielding the beam with his hand, and examines my side. His expression goes flat. Controlled. The look of a man who's seen a lot of wounds and knows how to categorize them.
"How bad?" I ask.
"Bad."
"Scale of one to ten."
"Seven. Maybe eight." He's already pulling supplies from his kit, gauze and tape and a packet of coagulant powder. "Bullet's still in there. You need surgery."
"Not really in my schedule tonight."
"Jinx—"
"Patch me up. Get me mobile. We can deal with the rest when we're not being hunted."
He wants to argue. I can see it in the set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders. But he knows I'm right. Staying here means dying here, and neither of us came all this way to die in a maintenance shed surrounded by bags of cow shit.
He works fast, packing the wound with gauze, taping it tight. The coagulant powder burns like someone poured acid into my flesh, and I bite down on my sleeve to keep from screaming. By the time he's done, I'm shaking, sweat dripping down my face, but the bleeding has slowed.
"That'll hold for maybe an hour." Asher helps me sit up. "After that, you're in serious trouble."
"Then we better move fast."
A shadow falls across the doorway.
Asher spins, weapon up, but it's Marlee, Thiago leaning heavily on her shoulder. His left arm is wrapped in a makeshift bandage, blood seeping through, but his right hand still holds a pistol.
"You look like shit," Marlee tells me.
"You should see the other guys."
"I did. Nice work." She eases Thiago down against the wall. "Dom and Kira?"
"En route." Asher checks his comm. "Dom, status?"
Static.
"Dom, respond."
More static. Then, faintly: "...pinned down... east perimeter... can't..."
The transmission cuts out.
Asher's face goes blank. The kind of blank that means everything underneath is screaming.
"I'm going." He's already moving toward the door.
"Asher, wait." Marlee grabs his arm. "You can't—"
"Dom is out there. I'm not leaving him."
"And Jinx? He's got maybe an hour before that wound kills him. You leave now, you might not make it back in time."
Asher stops. Turns. Looks at me.
The choice is written on his face. Dom, who's been with him for years. Dom, who survived the pits and built a new life and trusted Asher enough to follow him into this nightmare. Dom, who is dying somewhere in the darkness while Asher stands here, frozen.
Or me. The man who almost killed him. The man who pushed him away and pulled him close and can't seem to decide which one he wants. The man who took a bullet that was meant for his heart.
"Go," I tell him.
"Jinx—"
"Go get Dom. I'll be fine."
"You're not fine. You're bleeding out."
"No need to be so fucking dramatic." I force a smile. "That’s kind of my thing."
He crosses to me in two strides, grabs my face in both hands, and kisses me. Hard. Desperate. Like he's trying to memorize the shape of my mouth, the taste of my blood on his lips.
"Don't you dare die," he says against my lips. "You hear me? Don't you fucking dare."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"I mean it, Jinx." His forehead presses against mine. His breath is warm on my face. His hands are trembling. "I didn't wait six years to find you just to lose you in some fucking maintenance shed."
"Romantic."
"I'm serious."
"I know." I reach up, touch his face. My fingers leave a smear of blood on his cheek. "Go. Get Dom. Come back."
"I'll come back."
"You better. I still owe you for that comment at the briefing."
A ghost of a smile crosses his face. Then it's gone, replaced by determination, by the mask of the soldier he needs to be.
He pulls back. Looks at me one more time, memorizing my face the same way I'm memorizing his. Then he's gone, disappearing into the darkness, running toward the sound of distant gunfire.
Marlee watches him go. "He's going to get himself killed."
"Probably."
"And you're okay with that?"
I close my eyes. The pain in my side is clawing at my insides, demanding attention I can't afford to give. The world keeps trying to go gray around the edges, and I keep pulling it back, refusing to let go.
"No," I admit. "I'm not okay with any of this."
Thiago shifts beside me. His good hand finds mine, squeezes once. Solidarity from a man who can't speak, offered in silence. His grip is weak but warm, and I hold onto it like an anchor.
Outside, the gunfire intensifies. Shouts in the distance. The crack of rifles, the deeper boom of a shotgun, the sharp pop of handguns.
Asher is out there. Fighting. Maybe dying.
And all I can do is wait.
The minutes stretch into eternity. Marlee paces by the door, rifle ready, watching the grounds for any sign of pursuit. Thiago's breathing has gone shallow, his face pale in the darkness. My wound throbs in time with my heartbeat, each pulse sending fresh waves of agony through my body.
I think about the children. Shipped off before we could arrive, sent to some other facility to continue their conditioning.
Some other hell to endure. I think about what they're going through right now, while I bleed out in a shed full of fertilizer, and the rage that burns through me is almost enough to drown out the pain.
Almost.
I think about Asher. The way he looked at me before he left. The desperation in his kiss, the fear in his eyes. He's out there risking his life for Dom, for a man he's fought beside for years.
Would he have gone if I hadn't told him to?