Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Landon
When I said I’d learned not to be afraid, I didn’t have a woman I loved more than anything in the world.
Now I do—and I’m terrified because there are way too many of them. At least six that I can count, and I don’t know how many are in the vehicle in front of us. The doors are locked but I see the masked men quickly surrounding us.
And Rage is too far away.
Help is too far away.
We’re on our own, and Allora doesn’t have the experience to keep them at bay.
“Don’t fire until they break the glass,” I tell her, watching as she expertly holds up the gun. “We don’t want to help them get in.”
“I’ve never killed anyone before,” she whispers.
“It’s us or them. Don’t think, just act.”
“Landon…I’m scared.”
“Just remember what they did to you.”
My words have the intended impact.
“Fuck that.”
As she says the words, two guys using a common first responder tool called a window punch, shatter the windshield. They’ll move to the side windows next and even with a gun in each hand, I don’t think I can stop them.
Which means I’m probably going to die.
Dammit.
Courtney and Rage are going to be pissed.
Hell, I’m pissed.
I have so many things I still want to do. People I’ll be letting down. Micah. Daniil. And no one more than Allora. Thinking about what they’re potentially going to do to her gives me a burst of adrenaline.
So I can focus on the battle ahead.
This may not end well for me but I’ll go down fighting.
For her, for me, for us.
The first two guys go down instantly—I’m a good shot in general and this close there’s no question. Allora surprises me, firing off two shots that take out the guy trying to reach in through the windshield. Right in the face.
That’s my brave, beautiful girl.
I kill two more of the masked men but they realize I’m lethal so now they’re breaking the back window and someone is climbing in behind me. I don’t have the luxury of taking any more precision shots because they’re all over us, so I fire until my clips are empty, taking out two more guys.
And yet there are still a bunch of them.
Unfortunately, someone has reached for Allora.
She screams and fires wildly, one bullet catching the guy in the arm.
He yelps and falls back but now there’s a guy behind me and he’s wrapped some kind of coil around my neck.
I use one hand to keep him from choking me and the other to grab the gun from Allora.
“Fight!” I yell. “Don’t stop!”
And she does.
Even as they close in, punching out windows and trying to choke me, she kicks and swings with everything she has.
It’s just not enough.
She’s so small compared to the men.
It’s only going to take a few more seconds to overpower her—and kill me.
Fuck but I didn’t want it to end this way. This soon.
I see the taser and brace myself because this is going to hurt.
But we trained for this in Special Forces.
I’ve probably been tased more times than I can count, and I can push past the sting.
I breathe through the pain and manage to yank the coiled rope from my neck.
With two hands I grab the guy with the taser, pull him in through the window and slam his head against the steering wheel repeatedly, until blood spurts everywhere.
“Fucking end this!” someone yells.
“Don’t kill her, but I don’t give a fuck about him.” That’s someone else, and the voice is vaguely familiar. Why do I know that voice?
“No! We don’t need the feds involved. He’s a fucking war hero—this will make national news. Just use the fucking taser!”
Another jolt and this one hurts more than the last. I stiffen, momentarily losing my grip on the guy I was pounding into my steering wheel. That’s okay, though, because he drops like a rock, sliding back out the window.
“Again!” someone yells. “As many times as necessary until he goes down. If he has a heart attack, so be it. And she’s a buck ten—fucking pull her out the window and let’s get out of here!”
“No! Landon!” She kicks at the hand in front of her but someone puts a gun against her temple and she freezes.
“Fight!” I hiss.
They already made it clear they don’t want her dead but her hesitation was all it took. Someone yanks her out through the jagged windshield, glass scraping against her skin as she screams and tries to wiggle free.
“Motherfucker!” I elbow the guy closest to me, but someone else opens my door and then they fire two more tasers, pulling me out. I drop to my knees, trying to catch my breath, but I know my body can’t take much more.
I grab the leg of the man closest to me and somehow find the strength to yank him down, but the next guy puts a gun to my head.
“Try me,” he growls.
“Do it,” I hiss. “Because I won’t stop until you’re dead.”
He just laughs.
Then there’s a blinding pain in the back of my head and I go the rest of the way down.
I can still hear her screaming my name.
There’s blood in my eyes and the pain from the next shot of the taser keeps me down. I do my best to get up, but I can’t see, can barely move…
“Landon!” She screams one last time, and then there’s nothing but the sound of footsteps, a car door slamming closed, muffled voices.
I pry open my eyes, praying they didn’t kill her, and a hand snakes out, closing around my throat.
“Not so tough, are you, Mr. Special Forces?”
Now I recognize the voice. The barely discernible Southern accent. The condescending tone.
I fucking knew it.
I should have ended him when I had the chance. And now it’s too late. For me and for Allora. I’m not afraid to die but I’m terrified for her. Because her death won’t be a quick one. In fact, what they have planned is probably worse than death.
My assailant pulls back his fist and as his sleeve slides up, I see it.
The verification I need.
A tattoo I’ve seen a dozen times.
A longhorn.
Motherfucker.
I love you, baby.
I’m so sorry.
Keep fighting…
Then my world goes black.