47
EMERSYN
Fuck, Marcello hit a mine.
That was the only thought I could formulate as the world self-destructed.
I was thrown forward into Griffin and together we crashed into the dirt.
First, I felt him underneath me, but then he rolled us and shielded me from the debris that rained down.
All I smelled was sulfur and acrid smoke.
My ears rang. Griffin picked his head up, and our eyes immediately clashed.
Our bodies were completely flush against each other and I could feel his heart as it pounded in his chest, but his hand was steady when he put it against my cheek and mouthed something.
“Are you okay?” I could faintly hear him as the world rushed back.
I nodded and went to shove him off, but movement caught both our attention.
Seven and Marcello lunged for the same gun.
The sounds of their scuffle were muted in my ears.
Marcello reached the firearm first. He rolled to his back and pointed it at Seven at the exact same time Griffin pressed the barrel of his own gun against Marcello’s temple.
Seven was crouched on one knee, mid-scramble.
I couldn’t see his face, but his back was a mass of lacerations from where he’d been thrown into the hedge with the explosion.
Griffin was speaking, but I couldn’t hear what he said to Marcello over the ringing in my ears. It didn’t matter. I watched Marcello’s finger twitch on the trigger and my stomach lurched. I jerked forward automatically—even though I knew I wouldn’t reach them in time—
Marcello fell dead between the two men.
I sagged back in relief that caught me off guard.
Since when did I not want Seven or Griffin to get hurt?
Was it when I didn’t shoot Griffin in the Hole.
Or, maybe when I diverted from stabbing him in the throat earlier.
I didn’t fucking know—all I knew was hurting them felt…
wrong. Mostly because they hadn’t done any harm to me—only helped, and I was still trying to figure out what that meant.
“Angel.” My hearing was like the volume being turned up. “Angel—hey, easy—”
Seven supported Angel into a seated position.
He groaned and held his head before he squinted around at the carnage.
His eyes lingered on Marcello and he grimaced—whether it was from his head wound or the fact his buddy was dead, I couldn’t tell.
Griffin appeared and held out a hand to help me to my feet.
“You’re bleeding,” I said stupidly.
“What?”
I pointed to his shoulder. A piece of metal, about the size of a playing card was stuck deep into his shoulder. He waved away my comment and turned to Seven.
“You good?”
Seven gave him a thumbs up. Angel struggled to his feet. We were all covered in mud and foliage with various wounds that bled freely, but none of us had time to dwell on our aches and pains.
Griffin leveled his gun at Angel, and we all went still. “Looks like your friend is dead.”
“Oh, he wasn’t my friend.” Angel shook his head, then regretted the action immediately as he grimaced in pain. He touched his forehead gingerly and looked at his fingers coated in blood.
“Could have fooled me,” Seven said.
“I could see how I’d give off that impression. And, not that I don’t want to stand here and debate the finer points of keeping your enemies close, but we should probably move. This will attract the others.”
When Griffin and Seven didn’t move, Angel sighed. “Look, Marcello was one of Brooks’ closest confidants—his spy among the guards basically—” Angel explained. “I also knew he was going to cause the most trouble for our girl here—”
“She’s not your girl,” Griffin growled.
“I’m trying to tell you we’re on the same side,” Angel said. “Being close to Marcello meant I could keep tabs on him.”
“To what end?” Seven asked.
“That is not a question I can answer right now,” Angel’s grin was thin. “But, if you put a little trust in me, all will be answered in good time, my friend.”
Griffin jerked his head at Seven who picked up Angel’s gun and shoved it in his belt.
“No weapons.”
Angel held up his hands before he casually pulled his knife from his belt and tossed it at Griffin’s feet. “Yes, yes, fine.”
Griffin stashed it in his belt. “Let’s go.”
The mine had blown up a massive section of the maze. It leveled two pathways and toppled the hedges, so we had to find a way around the mess by back tracking. We’d already made several turns when I had the thought—what the fuck was I doing? Why didn’t I use the explosion as an excuse to run?
Griffin had his gun leveled at Angel’s back in front of me, and I used this time to study him.
He was so protective, yet, he hadn’t made any move to assault me or even look at me funny except to check to see if I was okay.
He’d had every opportunity to rape me back at the dead end, and of course every time before.
But he didn’t. I’d never even seen him with that look of hunger most guards had.
Did I stay because I felt protected?
Oh god—that wasn’t good.
I didn’t need to be falling for whatever fucking games these men were playing.
And then there was Mr. Three Musketeers.
I looked over my shoulder at Seven. He also had his gun ready as he watched our backs and everything else.
There was a grim look on his face until he caught my eye and winked.
There was a playfulness that appeared at the flip of a switch that was jarring but familiar.
It reminded me a little of Hangman—a bright spot in an otherwise unsafe environment—and every time Seven gave me a lopsided smile or I saw the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, I felt a pang of nostalgia.
I quickly turned back to the front. I didn’t need to get attached to these men.
Absolutely not.
Gunfire cut through the mist and Seven didn’t hesitate—he yanked me back against him and turned away. The sound of his gun was loud as he returned fire. Angel yelled at Griffin to give him his gun back as we retreated around a corner of the hedge.
“You’re going to need to trust me,” Angel said.
“I don’t have to do shit,” Griffin growled.
Griffin leaned around the edge and returned fire. He pulled back and checked his mag. When his jaw clenched, I knew he was running low. They all had to be at this point. He looked at Seven who cussed eloquently. Apparently they could read each other’s minds or something.
“Absolutely not, G,” he said firmly.
“Take her and find a different route,” Griffin said.
“No, we’re not splitting up,” Seven said sullenly.
“You winning is as good as me winning, you know this,” Griffin insisted.
What the fuck was happening?
I looked back and forth between them, then realized I was still looped in Seven’s arm with my back pressed against his chest. His displeasure rumbled through me and sent a shiver straight down my spine.
I eased out from under his grasp, ignoring the loss of heat and how good it had felt to just be in his arms—ugh, what was wrong with me? Had that explosion rattled my brains?
“Go. Angel and I will take care of this group and follow your trail,” Griffin said.
Seven growled but obeyed. He took ahold of my arm and we disappeared around a corner.
“Is he like your boss or something?” I asked.
Seven glanced at me briefly. “Or something.”
“That’s cute,” I scrunched up my nose.
He was busy clearing a corner and jerked his head for me to follow.
“I’d be more help if I had a gun too,” I said.
“Yeah right,” Seven snorted. “You’d blow my head off at the first opportunity.”
“I would not,” I said, feigning offense.
Although, I wasn’t sure if I was lying or not.
Would I shoot him? I was pretty positive I wouldn’t, based solely on the absolute dread I felt at the very thought of it.
And how I’d reacted when Marcello had him at gunpoint about to pull the trigger.
Gross. Yeah, something was definitely wrong with me.
“Plus, you were drugged, yeah? Not sure I trust that aim—”
I opened my mouth to protest, because fuck him, my aim was fine, when Seven shoved me behind him.
A group of four men rounded the corner. They didn’t stop to ask questions, but attacked Seven.
He shot one before guns became useless. Two of them went after him, while one snuck around and lunged for me.
I broke off a thorn and held it like a knife as the man advanced.
The drugs were fading, thank god, and I felt my reaction time coming back.
I played it like I was still sedated though and lured the man closer.
When he attacked, I landed several sharp blows to his face, and he stepped away in surprise.
He rushed again, and I let him get a hit to my ribs in favor of a solid punch to his throat.
He staggered backward and gripped his neck, choking on air.
I didn’t hesitate and sent him to the ground where I landed on top of him and rained blows down on his head.
Then, I grabbed the knife at his belt and drove it into the side of his neck.
I looked over to check on Seven.
He was upside down where he dangled from one of the traps.
This one was set against the hedge, so he kept getting swung into the thorns.
He’d killed another of our attackers, but the other one came out of his daze and scrambled for a gun.
I lunged for it at the same time, and we collided hard.
We rolled through the dirt and the man came out on top and attempted to wrestle the firearm from my grip.
I launched him off and we rolled again. I found a pressure point and drove all my strength into it.
He let me go, and I turned the gun on him and pulled the trigger.
I watched the life drain from his eyes and caught my breath, then I looked over at Seven.
He kept attempting to crane his head to see me better.
It would have been comical if it wasn’t serious.
Who was I kidding—it was still funny.
“Fuck, girl, where’d you learn to fight like that?” Seven twisted his head to keep me in sight as I got to my feet. “That was h–really cool.”
I picked up a gun and checked the mag, then racked it, and Seven’s eyes narrowed curiously.
“Still don’t trust my aim?” I asked dryly.
“Okay, in all fairness, you were drugged.” Seven smirked. “And I didn’t know the extent of your skills—”
I aimed the gun at him and he frowned, but the look on his face was more sadness than anger or fear. I cocked my head curiously.
“Aren’t you afraid I’m going to shoot you?” I asked. “Isn’t that what you said?”
Seven gave that mischievous smile of his.
“If you have to shoot me, baby girl, I won’t stand in your way.
” His expression sobered. “You deserve to not have anyone stand in your way, even me. Especially me. I know you don’t trust me, but G and I are here to protect you, and if that means you need to shoot me—just tell G I said it was okay or he might get mad. ”
“Protect me? Says the guy dangling from his ankle.”
“Okay, yup, that’s fair,” Seven smirked. “Don’t tell G this part. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
I didn’t have time to process any of the weird shit he was saying. “Fine. Any last words?”
Seven looked like he was seriously thinking it over, but I got impatient and pulled the trigger.
The bullet cut through the rope an inch from his boot, and Seven fell to the dirt path.
He got to his knees and looked up. His eyes were blown black and the slow smile that spread across his features was feral.
Oh shit—it was so predatory and visceral I felt it between my legs.
Maybe I should have shot him after all. That look was deadly.
Seven untied the rope left around his ankle and held up the severed end as he got to his feet. He shook his head and walked over to me. I stood my ground, but my entire body locked up with a wild exhilaration like I was being stalked. He stopped inches away and his lips curled.
“Nice shot.” His voice was low and rough. “There’s nothing wrong with your aim, is there?”
I shook my head, not trusting my own one bit. Seven looked like he was going to say something else, but we heard shouts and gunfire down the path. He searched around for a gun, and mag, and jerked his head to indicate I should follow him.
“We’ll dissect why you decided to save me later.” He winked and nodded at the gun. “And, I think I’ll let you keep that for now.”
A ghost of a smile twitched on my lips. The look on his face when he saw it nearly caused my stomach to bottom out at the brief glimpse of happiness it created in his eyes.
I didn’t know if I’d just made the worst mistake ever, or the right one by not shooting him—all I knew was that he’d done nothing but protect me, and so far had asked nothing from me.
I wasn’t used to that, and the fucked up side of me wanted to grab onto the feeling and savor it.
Not only that, but I wanted to feel it again.
For so long people had only taken and never asked what I wanted, or even given me a choice.
It had caused me to place trust at a very high price, safety even more so.
Psh. Who was I kidding? Safety was a luxury I didn’t have. So, then why did I feel it now?
Chills raced across my skin because why did I feel the safest I’d ever felt in a maze meant to kill me with two guards I knew nothing about?