Chapter 21 Royal #3
Gun, holster on his belt. Left side. My wolf sees it before I do.
I scramble and grab his gun, pointing it directly at his heart.
“Sorry, Tommy, isn’t personal.” I grimace as I pull the trigger, putting a bullet through his chest.
The sound is deafening in the small space, and my ears start ringing. I bite back a cry as I push my left thumb back in place, staying back out of the view of the door.
“He killed Tommy!” Charlie yowls as he opens the driver’s side door before sprinting around to the side of the van. From far to the right, I hear a distant “Fuck!” from James.
Charlie cautiously approaches the sliding door, gun drawn. He peeks in just enough for me to lunge forward, push his forearm down, and quickly point my gun at his head. I pull the trigger.
No bang. Just the deadening click of empty. “Who the fuck brings just one bullet to a kidnapping?”
I press the still-hot barrel into Charlie’s cheek instead, causing him to scream and pull away from the van.
Jumping out, I see James running toward us, fumbling with his belt.
Before James can reach for his weapon, I toss the empty gun at him, which he tries to catch on instinct.
Swinging a wide barrel punch, I clock him across the cheek and then kick him in the gut.
Behind you. Charlie’s up. My wolf helps.
I whirl around a second before Charlie can point his gun at me again. I grab his armed hand, forcing it to the ground. We struggle, and a gunshot fires off. I cry out at the impact on my left leg. The force dropping me to my knees.
Definitely got shot. Isn’t this lovely? Fucking Neil and his goddamned power trips.
But no pain comes.
I assume I can buy some time with the adrenaline pumping through my veins, so I pull myself up and ram my forehead into Charlie’s nose.
Might as well make the most of my headache.
His nose crunches as he squeals, and he lets go of the gun.
Pulling it from his grasp, I shove at his shoulder, pushing him back to the ground.
Before I can do anything, James tackles me from behind. Normally I’d be able to hold my own, but my bare feet slip on the loose gravel. White blasts across my vision as James lands a brutal punch across my face. Charlie might be a shit fighter, but James clearly has had some practice.
We’re missing lunch with our mate over this? It’s bullshit, my wolf snarls.
Charlie’s voice is muffled under the ringing in my ears, so I can’t make out what he’s saying as he approaches. The sound fades, and it takes a second for me to recover.
“We’re supposed to keep him alive, you idiot.” James is shouting, pinning me with his weight.
“He came at me!” Charlie defends.
“Shut up!” I command, channeling every little bit of my Dad and Valor, their alpha command-y-ness, as possible.
Reaching down, I grab the gun from James’s holster and buck my hips, shoving him off me. Charlie holds his hands in the air, with James joining him a moment later.
I wince as I stand, the pain in my leg starting to gain purchase. Pointing a gun at each of them, I ask, “Who else is coming out here? Why the fuck are we all the way out here?”
“You don’t get to make demands.” James rages at me. “You’re our fuckin’ hostage.”
We only need one of them to talk. My wolf huffs, and I pull the trigger.
Luckily, James’s gun fires perfectly. The round finds its home in his skull, and he drops to the ground, wide eyes unseeing.
I turn to Charlie, who slowly backs away from me, his shoes catching on sticks and roots as he backs toward the nearby woods.
Pitying him, I repeat the questions. “I’ll give you one more chance. Who else is coming out here? Why are we all the way out here?”
“Just N-Neil and Sa-Samuel. Neil said he’d c-call with instructions after he takes care of Valor,” Charlie answers. “Please don —”
I shoot Charlie square between the eyes. His body falls, and aside from my panting breaths, silence fills the space.
Suddenly, my leg starts screaming in pain, drawing my attention. My left leg has a solid bullet hole in it, blood already staining my pants.
“Fuck.” I force myself to draw slow breaths. “What have I done?”
What we needed to to survive. My wolf supplies, refocusing me.
I’m not the one in immediate danger. It didn’t hit an artery, so I’m not going to bleed out by the time it takes to get to civilization. I step back the ten feet that I’d made it away from the van.
Adrenaline keeps my body running, and I move, with a little pain, into the van and dig around under Tommy to find my phone.
Luckily, it’s under an easy-to-move arm rather than his torso.
The phone case is toast, and I pry off the broken metal and tempered glass.
Faster. My wolf urges me. Valor, Kerrianne, Antonella. They need us.
Once I wrestle the phone free, I find that the damage to the case resulted in the screen breaking in inopportune places. I push the emergency dial button, trying to get it to send through a call, but it’s busted and it clicks without making headway.
Try something else! my wolf snarls.
Frustrated, I try the screen again. It turns on this time but is hardly functional. I do what I can with it. Finally I get one app, the phone’s basic call feature, to ring to the outside world.
It rings and then stops.
No service.
No service because, of course, we’re in the middle of nowhere. I move to the driver’s door of the van and yank it open.
The keys aren’t in the ignition.
“Be so fuckin’ for real right now.” I want to scream but clench my fists instead, the shattered glass on my phone screen cutting into my hand.
Focus. Don’t get drawn into the distraction. Find the keys. My wolf levels me out.
It takes slow steps to walk back over to where James lies dead. And every step, I keep trying the call button.
On the sixth step, the call connects. I freeze, holding as still as I can.
“Valor.” He answers.
“Fuckin’ hell. It’s not Antonella. Don’t hurt her. I couldn’t get the damn thing to call out or answer. They shattered the damn screen. It’s not Antonella.” I’m talking so fast that I can’t slow down. I gasp for breath, trying to make sure I’m making sense.
“You’re okay?” Valor doesn’t acknowledge what I’ve told him.
Get moving. The wolf urges, trying to drive me toward James and the keys.
“Neil and fuckin’ Samuel are trying some shit. They’re —” I take a step forward, and the line sounds like it goes dead. “God fuckin’ damn it. What good is a fuckin’ indestructible case if it breaks and destroys the phone?”
“Yes, I can hear you. Can you get here?” Valor is despondent, his voice flat, cut off from his emotions like when something bad is happening.
“Yeah. I’m on my way as soon as I fuckin’ find the goddamn keys.” I go to step forward again, and the phone beeps. I freeze, turning around back toward the van. “Fuck it, faster if I hot-wire it. I’m on my way. Don’t hurt Antonella.”
The call disconnects. It was either Valor hanging up on me or the universe giving me a big middle finger. The screen goes black, and no amount of pressing gets it to light up again. I toss it into the van before looking at Charlie and James.
Don’t panic. Stop the bleeding first. My wolf draws my attention back to the wound in my leg, and focusing on it brings pain into my consciousness.
I rip the bottom of my pants on my non-injured leg, tearing the blood-flecked fabric apart and wrapping the wound tight, applying as much pressure as I can stand but not making a tourniquet. If I can’t stop the bleeding, things are going to get worse, and a tourniquet is the absolute last resort.
Bandage tied tight, I survey the mess I’ve made. My blood is all over the place out here. Evidence of what happened is everywhere.
I’m worried, despite the time of day and year, about someone coming back and finding the corpses . . . If there’s no body, then there’s no crime, right?
Yeah, I’m more worried about that than getting stopped by a cop who isn’t on our payroll. I don’t know who I can trust. Who knows where the coup ends?
It’ll be agonizing getting the bodies into the van, but a double-murder charge is a hell of a lot harder to make go away than bodies are.