her. Why the fuck isn’t she protesting, even if only to defy me?
When we exit, the men lead us to where the limo is waiting to take us to the private airfield. Ringo pulls the door open, and just as I’m about to thrust Rose into the back seat, I hear it.
A scream.
Then all fucking hell breaks loose.
“In the car!” Brad bellows to me, pulling his gun and firing immediately, no hesitation. I look across the roof of the limo, just as a man drops, his brain spraying the concrete. There’s a gun in his limp, dead grasp. Another shot, but this one isn’t Brad. I feel the bullet sail past my ear, and I turn to see one of my men jolt before grabbing his shoulder and cursing. The chaos gets worse, bystanders screaming, people running for cover as more shots fire around me. I catch Brad’s eye as he dives for cover. “Get in the fucking car!”
I reach out to grab—
Where the fuck is she?
I whirl around, searching the sea of heads for her. People are being carried by the charging crowds, some diving to the ground. I pull the car door close to shield my body as Brad bends down by the back wheel, a few feet away, reloading his gun. I flinch when the rear window shatters, raining down broken glass all over him. “Fuck,” he curses, smacking the bottom of his magazine and peeking up over the car. No sooner has he raised to half height, he dips back down, a bullet just missing him. “Motherfucker.”
I reach into the car and flip open the glove compartment, pulling out a Glock. I’m just in time to catch a man in the crowd aiming at Brad’s head. I fire, taking him down before he has a chance to engage his trigger finger. “Who the fuck are they?” I ask, taking another scan of the crowd.
“Fucked if I know,” Brad yells. “Get in the fucking car.”
“Where’s Rose?”
“I couldn’t give a fucking shit where your whore is, Danny. We’re being fucking shot at.”
I lose my shit, lunging forward and thrusting the barrel of my gun in my oldest friend’s face. “Call her a whore again, I’ll put a fucking bullet in your skull myself.”
His eyes say everything. “Got it.” He aims and fires without looking away from me, catching a man to the side of us with a tidy-looking Heckler in his grasp. “She’s in the car.”
I yank the door open and find Rose sitting there calmly like there isn’t a fucking shoot-out happening. Then I get to her eyes. Wide eyes. She’s scared, and it’s a fucking relief. I was beginning to think she was a robot. “You okay?”
She swallows and nods, letting me pull her from the car.
“We’re clear,” I hear Ringo yell, and I slowly rise to full height, taking in the carnage. There are five of them, all dead. “Search them.” I glance around the space, looking for cameras. “And have the cameras wiped.” My men disperse, following my orders. One scoops up Rose’s silver purse and hands it to her, and she thanks him, her voice scratchy and broken.
I turn to Brad when he doesn’t acknowledge me, finding him staring forward, forcing me to pivot and check what has his attention.
I find a gun.
Being held to my forehead. What the fuck?
The feel of Rose’s hand constricting around mine forces me to return it, telling her we’re fine. Fine? I’m literally staring down the barrel of a 9mm. I tug her hand, silently ordering her to move behind me. I can hear her strained, panicked breathing. I can hear Brad cursing behind me.
“Shoot,” I order the man before me, curling my lip, pushing my forehead into the end of his gun. “Fucking shoot me.”
“No,” Rose screams, just before I jerk back, knocking her out of the way. I hear the shot fire and blink a few times, waiting for my body to hit the deck. It doesn’t. I’m still standing. But the man before me drops, and I turn to see Brad, his arms braced in front of him. “Any time,” he grunts, quickly turning to his left and pulling the trigger again. “Get out of here, Danny.”
This time, I listen. Maybe because I now have Rose with me. I grab her hand and yank her up, pulling her back into the hotel. I head for the lift, my men following, firing bullets all over the fucking place. “Get in,” I order, shoving her into