Hitman vs Hitman - L.A. Witt Page 0,86

it took the guy to block the pot, August shot him twice in the chest with the last two bullets in his magazine. The man stumbled, but didn’t fall.

Fuck, he’s wearing a vest.

He didn’t have time to reload, not with the way the guy was bringing his gun to bear on them again. August dove forward, driving Ricardo’s knife in just above the man’s knee and slicing through his quadriceps tendon like butter.

Damn, this is sharp. Nice.

As his attacker screamed and began to topple, August jammed the knife straight up into his armpit, finding the axillary artery and severing it. Blood sprayed like a shaken bottle of champagne, and the man screamed even louder, clutching his arm tight to his side as he fell.

August cut the fucker’s throat and put them both out of his misery. “Loud little shit,” he muttered, wiping blood from his face. Jesus, he was drenched. Cry about it later. They still had to get out of this place.

The man had come through a door on the far side of the kitchen. Maybe it led to the garage? Someone started banging on the door behind them, and August figured it was a good time to leave no matter where that door went. He took a second to frisk the body of the dead man, hoping for good news. Keys! Yes! He stuck them in his pocket, then crawled back over to Ricardo, who had his eyes shut.

“No.” August slapped his face. “No, Ricky, stay awake! No sleeping on the job, we’re still in Victor’s fucking house, pay attention to me!”

“’M…wake.”

August breathed a sigh of relief. “Stay that way, you asshole.” He put the com back in his ear.

“—gunfire in the kitchen so Haney is getting the battering ram, wait for my signal before—”

“A battering ram, of course, we’ve all got those dick-extensions lying around,” August muttered. “Okay. Come on.” He slid his arms under Ricardo’s arms and legs and heaved himself to his feet, almost staggering into the body of the man he shot when they first entered. God, he was tired. And fuck, Ricardo was almost as bloody as August was, but that blood was all his. “I can’t believe you’re making me princess-carry you to the car,” he groaned as he headed for the door. His arms ached like fire, every tendon burning, but he would sooner have both limbs chopped off than put Ricardo down right now.

It would be so much easier just to leave him.

Except it wouldn’t. The thought made August want to puke. When had he turned so maudlin?

Must be when you let yourself fall for an insanely brave, amazingly fucked-up hitman, you complete and utter moron.

The door led to a huge walk-in pantry, which led to a—yes! Garage! Better yet, there was no one else in it right now. August fumbled for the keys in his pocket and pushed the unlock button. There—the black SUV at the back, clearly a working vehicle. There were a few shiny toys in here, though. Who knew Victor was such a fancy little fuck? No wonder he’d recognized August—they’d probably met at some fundraiser or gala and August hadn’t even known, while Victor had made him in two seconds. Ricardo was right—he really needed to be more careful with his identity.

He got Ricardo to the SUV and put him in the backseat, strapping him in. Ricardo looked up at him through blurry eyes. “Car?”

“Yeah, I found a car,” August confirmed.

“B’llet…proof?”

August inspected the SUV’s sidewalls. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“G’nna get…us shot…”

“No I won’t,” August assured him, feeling a horrible, wonderful idea come to him as he looked around the garage. It would take time, time he wasn’t sure he had—but Ricardo was right too, if August was translating his mumbled correctly. Victor had a lot of people working for him, and they were very, very armed. If he drove the SUV out of here without one hell of a distraction, it would take a lot of gunfire. The odds of avoiding being hit were…not great.

Then again, there was a hell of a distraction on offer here. He just had to be quick about it. “I’ll take care of it,” August assured Ricardo. “You just do your part and don’t die. Okay? That’s the deal. You get to lie down now because I’m such a nice guy, so pay me back by staying alive.” I need you alive. The thought of Ricardo dying now made August’s trigger finger convulse.

“M’kay.”

It was the best assurance he was going