Fake (Madison Kate #3) - Tate James Page 0,137

stuck hard. Another round of shots rang out and terror surged through me. Kody was out there. Either he was shooting at someone... or they were shooting at him. I couldn't just sit there waiting for help, I needed to save myself. And my friend.

Gritting my teeth against the pain in my head, I wiggled my hand into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out my butterfly knife. Thank fuck I'd taken to carrying it everywhere with me because it was about to save my ass.

It only took a couple of tries to slice through the seat belt fabric, and I sent multiple mental thanks up to Archer's grandfather for crafting such an impressively sharp weapon.

My door miraculously popped open on the first try, but I cast another panicked look over at Bree. It fucking killed me to leave her, but I wasn't doing either of us any favors by staying in my seat. She needed urgent medical help, so I was going to make it happen.

"I'm coming back, Bree, I swear. Just hang in there, girl. I've got you, okay? I'm getting help." Tears choked at my throat, my voice cracking over those words as I accepted that she wasn't going to reply. She hadn't moved even an inch since we'd crashed.

"Hang in there, bitch," I whispered at her, my cheeks wet as tears overflowed. "I'm coming back for you." More gunshots popped, closer. Or maybe my hearing was just becoming clearer. Either way, I was right in the middle of a goddamn gunfight.

I slid out of the car, keeping low to the ground as I looked around. We were in the middle of an intersection with banged-up cars scattered all around. They must have all been clipped as Bree's car hurtled out of control, but none of the drivers were coming to our aid. I didn't blame them, either, as another spray of gunshots peppered a delivery van less than thirty feet from me.

Where was Kody?

Flattening my body to the ground, I peered under the car and spotted the familiar blue Maserati, its side littered with bullet holes and its tires totally flat. That pretty much confirmed it in my dazed and possibly concussed mind. There was nothing accidental about this accident. It was a deliberate, planned attack... on me.

Heavy footsteps crunched on broken glass somewhere nearby, and I held my breath on reflex. I was already belly down on the pavement; all I needed to do was shimmy under the car for protection. But what if it caught fire or something? Then... fuck. It was already too late.

A pair of black combat boots rounded the smashed-up hood of Bree's car, and I looked up, locking eyes with the stranger. And his gun.

He gave me a cold stare, like killing me meant absolutely nothing to him. My mind whirled, searching for some way out. But my only weapon was my knife, and this was a gunfight. I was sorely out matched in the ranged-weapon scale.

My stomach lurched. There was a click, then the deafening gunshot, and my eyes screwed tight on reflex. But the bullet never reached me.

I opened my eyes again just in time to see my would-be killer drop to his knees with a perfectly circular hole in the middle of his forehead. Just a small dribble of blood trailed from it as his huge body wobbled a moment, but three more shots to his chest and another to his head saw him hit the ground in a spray of blood and tissue.

"Babe, are you okay?" Kody barked, crouching beside me on one knee but keeping his gun raised and his gaze alert for anyone else who wanted to try us. "MK, answer me!"

"Yeah," I croaked. "Yes, I'm fine. But Bree isn't. She needs help, Kody!"

His gaze jerked away from our surroundings for just long enough to peer into the car, then he cursed. "Alright, an ambulance is already on its way. It's going to be okay, babe, I promise. We're okay, yeah? Can you stand up?"

I nodded, then hissed at the agony that movement sent through my head. "I can, I'm fine. Just help Bree."

Kody wrapped his arm around me, helping me stand without letting his gun arm relax even a second. "Shh, I've got you, babe. You're safe."

I hadn't even realized I was crying again until he crushed me into his chest and I felt the wetness of my own face. Fuck. Fuck. If Bree died because of me...

"The boys are here; it's

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