Chapter 36 #3
The minute I’m in the shadows of the house, the bullets stop.
Keeping low, I hurry toward the kitchen where my go-bag is sitting. There, I dig around in the bag for my phone. If I can send off an SOS to the guys, Dad and I might be able to hold them off long enough to—
The sound of the front door breaking down sends goosebumps down my arms.
Shit. Forgoing the phone, I straighten and look for a place to hide. I don’t have long to find a spot. The heavy footsteps that follow the crash have me scrambling, searching for somewhere to squeeze into.
Shit, judging by the noise, there’s a lot of them.
With nowhere to hide, there’s only one thing I can do.
Taking a deep breath, I dart into the family room where the threat is. My gun goes off before anyone else’s. Three men, dressed in dark tactical gear, go down one by one. A bullet grazes my hip but I slip behind the large grandfather clock before another can land a hit.
“We got eyes on the girl!” Someone calls out.
Upstairs, there’s a large crash.
Shit! Dad!
I glance toward the stairs just as gunfire up there begins to go off. There are screams of agony followed by more gunfire.
For a fraction of a second, I grieve for the damage being done to Santi’s house. God, will he ever forgive me?
I push the heartache away to focus.
In the reflection of the television, I can see three men approaching me, guns raised and crouching low.
Grinding my teeth, I make a quick decision.
I grab the barrel of my gun with my teeth to hold it while I use both hands to shove the grandfather clock over.
Using the distraction to my advantage, I pull the gun from my mouth and race up the stairs.
Anything that moves gets shot on my way up.
Two bodies fall over the railing, forcing me to jump over them to make it up the steps.
When I get to the top of the stairs, I find the hallway empty.
The sound of a struggle—grunts and thumps and swears—draws my attention to the primary bedroom.
I get ready to rush in, but two men emerge from Santi’s room and charge at me.
One of my bullets takes out the first guy who goes toppling over the railing but then my gun jams as the second man slams into me. The force in which he hits me knocks the breath from my lungs. It’s knocked out again as my back hits the wall so hard that the drywall caves behind me.
He tries to grab my wrist, but when my knee comes up to make contact with his junk, he’s forced to back up.
Taking the opportunity, I shove off the wall and punch his masked face with my gun.
His head snaps back as his nose breaks. Kicking out, I strike his ankle and as he bends down in pain, my gun meets his face again.
I lunge forward, grabbing his gun while he’s distracted and discharge it into his side.
I don’t wait around to watch his body tumble to the ground.
Running into the primary bedroom, I find Dad grappling with three men. Littered around the room are bodies. Some men are dead; others are clinging to the last few moments of life. They’re all ignored as I lift the gun in my hand.
Rather than pull the trigger right away, I hesitate. If I fire off a few rounds, I could hit Dad. So instead, I toss the gun aside and go for the knife in my boot. At the same time, I shove the door closed behind me with my foot, giving me and whoever else is coming up those stairs a small barrier.
With a snarl, I leap into the fray. My blade slashes through the air as I descend on my first victim.
One man screams as my blade slams into his neck. I pull it free only to slam it back in. Blood sprays everywhere. Another man goes down just as I leap off the man I’ve just killed. Dad and the last man go hand-to-hand.
Without missing a beat, I lunge forward and sink my blade into the man’s back. Dad’s blade slams into the man’s cheek at the same time. Stumbling back, I let Dad push the man's body aside.
“The window!” I snap.
It’s unnecessary. Dad is already whirling around to open it.
Just as the pane of glass slides open, the door to the bedroom is knocked down.
Without thinking, I step in front of Dad.
Bullets go flying immediately. One hits me in the leg.
Another slams just below my right collar bone. One more grazes my ear.
The pain is… incomprehensible.
As more and more masked men in tactical gear file into the room, the bullets stop but the threat doesn’t.
They descend upon us in a wave.
As I stumble backward while clinging to consciousness as best as I can, one thing becomes crystal clear: we’re both not going to make it out of here. There’s no way. But maybe one of us can…
Turning, I shove Dad with all my might.
He topples out of the window.
I hear his shout of surprise as he disappears out of sight, falling to the ground below. I’m about to jump too when hands grab me.
“Blair!” Dad roars from outside as I’m dragged away from the window.
“Run!” I scream.
Something strikes me in the back of my head. The pain that explodes is unfathomable.
I gasp.
Then the world goes dark.