straight through the front door and through the house. He nailed the guard struggling with Izza, then the guy aiming at Hans.
Surprised when that thug fell dead, Hans sent Walker a thankful nod. Izza was back in fighting mode. She shoved Hans out of her way and blocked the doorway with her body, firing like a madwoman. Which made her a target.
No way.
Walker charged into the house, determined to hold fast until that promised TEAM assist showed. Where the hell were they?
With both front and rear egress points breached and no assurance Stewart’s TEAM would arrive in time to save anyone, Walker did the smart thing. The right thing. The only thing.
Ripping his t-shirt over his head, he wound one sleeve over the end of his rifle and backtracked to the front door. He had a bargain to make.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“No!” Izza screamed from the rear exit. “Damn you, Walker. Stop!”
Persia glanced over her shoulder in time to catch sight of him clearing the front door, a damned white flag stuck on the end of his rifle. “Back inside!” she bellowed. “I didn’t come all this way to lose you now!”
“I won’t let you die,” he answered calmly. “Tell your boss—”
BLAM! A round caught his left shoulder, twisting the upper right half of his body forward. A red puff of blood and tissue sprayed the wall behind him. He clutched her wrist and fell to one knee. That damned white flag kept waving like the surrender it was.
“You sons of bitches!” Persia yelled, firing one round after the other into the assassins headed her way. Going to kill every last one if it was the last thing she did.
Hotrod should’ve known better! Damn him! These guys weren’t from the ICC. They were common thugs. They wouldn’t take him alive. Every last one of them was after the bounty on his head. Jesus, what a way to go. Hunted like a dog. Bleeding like a stuck pig.
Not on my watch!
“Get inside, Persia,” he pleaded. “Please. For me. This is the only way you guys are going to live. Don’t you see?”
“No!” she snapped, never more sure than now that this was where she was supposed to be. At his side when he needed her most, with her sharp eyes picking off one damned varmint after another and covering his ass.
Another spray of firepower exploded the siding over her head. Slivers and chunks of wood rained down. With one desperate shove, he forced her backward and pushed her inside. Where she’d be safe, but he would not. The ass!
“Don’t do this!” she ordered, even as she fell on her rear.
Hotrod slammed the door in her face.
Persia scrambled to her feet, rifle still in hand. Looking through that small square of bulletproof glass in the door, she stared into the stormy blue eyes on the other side. He knew he’d be killed. But he looked pissed, yet brokenhearted at the same time. A river of red streamed down his neck, over his shoulder and chest. The stupid ass’s hard head had just taken a hit. He’d been grazed. He meant to die for her. Like hell!
“Let me out!” She jerked at the door handle. Then harder. It didn’t budge. Hotrod held the other side of that knob.
“Damn you! Let me out!” she cried, frantic she’d have to stand here and watch while they riddled his body with shot after shot. As if on cue, another round splattered across the front of the house, etching the window panes, still not breaking through. Somehow missing him.
Hotrod never broke eye contact. Never blinked. Just stared at her, as if he were soaking up this last moment. As if this was the end and he knew it. He was going to stand there and die to save her.
Persia froze. For a millionth of a damned second.
“No! Damn you, no! You can’t do this!” she bellowed, pulling with all her weight and energy to open that door. “I can help! I’m no weakling! You can’t do this! Let me out!”
Tears brimmed with every unsuccessful tug. She braced her feet. Cursed brave men in general. Tried to overpower his hold again. And again! “I’m not giving up on you, damn it. Don’t you dare give up on me!”
Yet there Hotrod stood, on the other side of forever. As patient as fuck! Tenderness gleamed like tears in his eyes. He was doing it again, walking away and leaving her. Only this time, there’d be no coming back.
Tires screeched. Thunder rumbled and—
UMMPH!