30. Coen #2
His cute little Volvo crashes right into the gate at the house we were heading to, buckling it and sending us both flying forward in our seats. The airbags deploy and his horn won’t stop fucking blaring. I see fucking stars for a second and struggle against the belt that won’t come undone.
“You good?” I cough and cut through the thing keeping me locked into place.
Simon doesn’t move and for the first time in the history of knowing the fucker, I actually worry that he might be dead. I shake his shoulder and his head falls.
Oh shit, June is going to kill me.
But I let out a sigh of relief when he turns toward me, blood trailing from his forehead to his chin.
“You’ve seen better days,” I tell him.
He spits blood onto his dash. “I told you it was going to hurt.” Beckett unbuckles his seatbelt and shoves his door open. “I can’t fucking move. My leg is pinned.”
“God damn it, Beckett.” I pull myself across the back of the car and exit on his side. There’s no telling how quick security will get here and if we don’t want to die within seconds of forcing entry onto the property, we need to fucking hurry.
“You act like I got myself stuck on fucking purpose.” He pries at his leg but it doesn’t budge.
I yank open his door and fumble around with his ankle.
“I am way closer to your dick than I’d prefer.
” I smash my face into the side of him to get a better angle on his foot.
“Got it.” I pull a little too hard and when his foot pops free, he falls out of the fucking car and on top of me, caging me onto the ground.
“Listen, I know I’m tolerating you right now, but this is not what I had in mind.” I shove him off of me.
“For a second there it was almost like you had a sense of humor.” Simon dusts his pants off and reaches for the knife I had given him. “Where’s that box?”
I grab it from the back seat and hand it to him. “What did you have in mind?”
“Pure. Fucking. Chaos.” Simon reaches in and pulls out a grenade, handing it to me and taking the other one that’s tucked in the box with it. “You know how to use one of those?”
I roll my eyes. “This isn’t my first fucking rodeo.”
“You’ve got about three to five seconds max to get rid of that thing. Don’t cook it too long or it’ll blow your fucking arm off.”
“I told you I was fine.”
Beckett limps from the car and crouches behind a bush. “We need to get the fuck away from here.”
"Follow me." I take off in a zig-zag pattern toward the house, stopping periodically to assess my surroundings.
A group of men wearing all black and sporting assault rifles runs toward the smoking car at the gated entrance.
“Think you can chuck that thing that far?” I ask Beckett.
“I played football once.” He yanks the pin free and sends the grenade flying through the fucking air. It bounces along the ground near the car and explodes a couple seconds later.
Some of the men are hit but from the smoke and debris floating about, I can’t tell exactly how many.
"How long until we have backup?" Beckett glances over at me.
“Depends who’s driving.” I shrug. “Could be ten minutes.”
"That's too much time." He sighs and scratches his lip with his teeth. "Here's the plan." Beckett points to the grenade still in my grasp. "We're going to find her, then you're going to throw that and buy me enough time to get her free. You can cover us."
“The fuck I will.”
Beckett steadies my shoulders and looks me dead in the eyes. “Coen. You are a better shot than me. And you are June’s first love. Do you understand me?”
I narrow my gaze. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Losing you once turned her into a cold-hearted bitch. What do you think is going to happen if she loses you again?” Beckett shakes his head. “Not letting that happen.”
“But I thought…”
“You thought wrong.” Beckett yanks out one of his guns and checks the chamber. “I love her more than anything, but that means I can’t be selfish with her.” He holds out his hand. “Give me that switchblade.”
I pull it out of my pocket and he snatches it from my hand, taking off along the exterior of the house and peering into the windows.
I rush to catch up and get my head back into the game.
I never expected him to say that. To put what he assumes are her desires over his.
Doesn't he realize that he's the better man?
That she should be with him instead of me?
He just proved it when he said he was willing to risk his life instead of mine.
A man that he hates more than anything. He would put his life on the line to give me a chance with her instead of him.
I can’t even tell her the truth and here he is, ready to die to allow another man to be with her.
“There.” Beckett points through a window. “There she is.” He runs away before I can say another word, darting around the side of the house.
He shimmies the door handle and makes a cupping motion like he’s holding something and then throws it. His way of telling me to follow through with the plan, and because he isn’t wasting any more time, there’s nothing I can do but go along with it.
Beckett nods and gives me the go ahead, the door creaking open with his grip on it.
I jerk the pin out of the grenade, running back in the direction we came, holding onto it for far too fucking long before using every ounce of strength I have to throw it as far as I can.
It explodes a second after I release it and I dive into the ground to avoid the brunt of the explosion.
Part of the stone structure shatters around me, pieces of it falling to the ground and hitting me.
Talk about a fucking distraction, I blew a hole in the second story of the fucking house.
I scramble to my feet and sprint toward where I left Beckett. Bursting through the door, I run in the direction I can only assume they’re in and spot him there, kneeling at June’s side, the knife in his grasp frantically cutting through the binds that hold her to the chair.
Her gaze trails up to lock onto mine, and for a split second, I think all of this is going to work out. But when I catch movement in my peripheral and turn to find Gwyneth Sharp pointing a gun at Simon fucking Beckett, I do the only thing I can think of.
I run. I push my legs harder than they ever have been pushed and dive to shove him and June out of the way. The shot rings out and fear washes through me. Fear that I didn’t make it in time. Fear that I did the wrong thing. Fear that I only put June in more danger.
But when I blink down at my chest and see the blood pooling from the wound, I realize that one part of this plan worked. The man June loves is safe—but that man is not me.
And that is a reality I will take into the next lifetime. Because as much turmoil I caused her, the pain and torment and heartache, at least I could have given her that.
My redemption.
Trading my life for Simon Becketts.