Never Gonna Happen - Cynthia Eden Page 0,69

at least, she thought she yelled it. Something was wrong with her hearing. Everything was muted.

The man glanced up at her. With the flames glowing and darkness around them, she couldn’t make out his expression clearly, but she thought he might be smiling.

And she knew he was lifting his gun to aim at Sebastian.

“Drop it!” Alyssa screamed as she scrambled to her feet. Again, she thought she screamed but—

He was about to fire.

Sebastian still wasn’t moving.

Alyssa had the gun he’d given to her. She lifted it and squeezed the trigger. Her hand jerked as she fired and the bullet flew from the weapon. It hit the man’s upper chest. Left side. Close to his shoulder.

He turned his weapon on her.

So she fired again—she fired her second shot at the same moment that Sebastian suddenly rolled over. He came up with a gun gripped in his hand, and he fired, too. The man in black stumbled back. The gun fell from his fingers. Then he fell.

Alyssa was still squeezing her gun with a death grip. But as soon as the fellow hit the pavement, she ran for Sebastian. He was already surging to his feet. Weaving just a bit, but getting upright.

“Sebastian!” Her own voice still seemed muted to her. Everything was muted. She was holding her towel, holding her gun, and she was desperate to get to him.

He caught her in his arms. Yanked her against him. “Baby, are you okay?”

She could barely hear his words. She nodded anyway. Then she looked up at him. Blood dripped down the side of his face from a nasty gash over his right eye. “Sebastian?”

He pulled her even closer. “We can’t be in the open. We need to move!”

Because there were more threats? She looked around, frantic, but didn’t see Dex. She didn’t see his guards. Didn’t see any other bad guys. She didn’t see anyone.

Was that good?

Or, very, very bad? Because Dex had made it out, hadn’t he? The others on his team were okay?

Sebastian was rushing with her away from the building. The pavement bit into her bare feet, but she barely felt the sting. Smoke was filling the air. Not a lot of flames—more smoke than flames—and glass was everywhere. She dodged the glass as best she could and—

Was that a buzzing sound?

Her head craned to the left. She could see the blur of lights. Blue lights that were flashing. Wait. That hadn’t been a buzzing sound. It had been a siren. One that just sounded funny with her messed-up hearing.

Sebastian was heading toward the lights.

Two patrol cars rushed to the scene. So did a black SUV. Winston jumped out of the SUV. “What in the hell?” His eyes widened as he gaped at them.

“I need her out of here,” Sebastian blasted. “Now.”

Winston nodded and grabbed a blanket from his vehicle. He ran to them and put the blanket around her. It was such a simple gesture—but, God, she was grateful for it. And for him.

“Get her out of here, Winston,” Sebastian said. His voice was clearer to her now. “The scene isn’t contained. She’s in danger.”

She pulled the edges of Winston’s blanket closer around her body.

“Get her away from me.”

Her head jerked at those words. She’d misunderstood. Surely. Sebastian hadn’t just said that? Had he?

“I’m sorry.” She read Sebastian’s lips because his voice was far too low for her to hear. “It won’t happen again.”

A bomb? An attack at a safe house? Yes, she doubted either of those events would happen again. This was a whole one-in-a-million situation. Winston motioned toward the uniformed cops, and they surged toward her, even as Sebastian backed away.

“He’s bleeding. He needs help.” She tried to reach out for Sebastian.

Winston pulled her back.

Sebastian shook his head at her.

Then he turned and raced back toward the chaos and the smoke.

She tried to go after him, but Winston tightened his grip. His cop buddies swarmed in on her.

“I’m gonna need that gun, Alyssa.”

She could hear Winston’s voice better. Everything was less distorted.

She frowned at him. “I need you to go after him, Winston.”

“I will, but I have to take care of you first.” More patrol cars zoomed down the road. “Give me the gun. Let me get you to safety.”

She looked back toward the warehouse. She couldn’t even see Sebastian. “He’s hurt.”

“And I’m going to protect him, but I want you to give me the gun. Then I want you going with these cops—Isla Burgos and Nico Ricci.”

Her gaze darted to them. They nodded to her.

“They’re