Blacklisted (Loveless, Texas #3) - Jay Crownover Page 0,98

pulled the trigger and I screamed so loudly I was certain my lungs were going to pop. I swore I felt the breeze created by the bullet as it whipped past my face. The sound was absolutely deafening, but the explosion of pain I expected wasn’t nearly as severe…for a moment. I was lifting my hands to uselessly ward off what was happening when I suddenly had no control over my body. I was letting out a breath of relief that the gun that had gone off in my face hadn’t killed me, when a blaze of agony suddenly burst across my entire back, knocking me swiftly to the ground. I fell gracelessly in a heap, the metallic scent of my own blood tingling in my nose almost instantly. My cheek hit the asphalt and I knew the impact should hurt, but I didn’t feel anything. Couldn’t feel anything.

As I struggled to breathe, everything seemed too loud, too bright, too much. My vision started to waver and get blurry around the edges. I barely saw the boots of the scarred man, standing in front of me as another pair raced into the corner of my vision.

I wanted to ask for help. I wanted to push to my feet. I wanted to plug my ears because the noise happening somewhere above my head was incredibly loud. I also wanted a warm blanket because I was freezing and shivering uncontrollably. I thought I was cold when Shot opened that motel room door, but I had no idea just how cold a person could be when their life started to leak out of them.

There were more agonizingly loud pops and voices yelling over my prone form. I felt shaking hands touch my hair and stroke over my face. The touch was followed by a woman’s voice shouting my name over and over. I tried to focus on her, but my body wouldn’t obey anything I told it to do. I managed to get my eyes open for a brief second and saw Kody bent over me. She was crying and looked hysterical. Even though my mind was foggy, I wondered where Shot was. The tiny piece of my heart that wasn’t crushed still wanted him when things were going really wrong.

I wanted to look around and make sure he was okay, since it sounded like there were bullets flying everywhere. I desperately needed to know he wasn’t also lying on the asphalt, covered in blood and being sucked under by an indescribable pain the way I was.

I was so tired. And so cold. It sounded like a high-budget action movie happening around me, there were more and more gunshots. More voices screaming all kinds of obscenities and calling my name. Suddenly there were sirens. But it was too hard to keep track of it all. I hurt so badly I just wanted everything to go away.

I couldn’t keep my eyes open, no matter how hard I tried. I felt like a very heavy weight was tied around my consciousness pulling it down into a deep, dark hole. There didn’t seem to be an end to the free fall. I was sinking fast. The blackness got bigger and more vast until it eventually took me over and everything both inside and outside of me went deathly quiet and scary still.

My very last thought before I couldn’t think, or feel, or hear anything else, was that I really hoped Shot was okay.

Chapter 21

Shot

You find anyone who knew Jed Coleman made it out of that fire alive. And when you do—” I curled my hand into a fist and exhaled a deep breath “—you make them pay.” I looked at Top’s somber face and waited for him to nod in understanding. “Anyone involved in keeping the fact Jed was still alive and his whereabouts from us is going down. No exceptions.”

I was issuing death warrants for anyone who had a hand in putting Presley in the hospital.

Top nodded and dragged a hand down his face. He looked haggard, like he’d aged ten years in one day. He was tired of seeing me get shot, and I couldn’t blame him.

When I saw Presley go down it felt like time stopped.

Nothing mattered but getting to her and making sure she was still alive.

I didn’t care about Top taking out Coleman.

I hardly noticed that Ashby had exited the motel room behind me as I chased after Presley. I didn’t register she also had a weapon and was taking aim