Shameless - Sybil Bartel Page 0,62

gloves, I reached for the gun. The weight shocking, my covered hands fumbled and the heavy piece of metal almost fell out of my grasp.

Not even knowing if it was loaded, I carefully set the gun back down and cursed an absentee father who never taught me how to shoot a gun, let alone ride a bike or tie my shoes. Scared of a stupid piece of metal, but more scared for Shade as shots kept ringing out, I forced myself to pick it up again.

Then I gingerly fed it into the pocket of the parka.

The cold weather jacket suddenly feeling a hundred pounds heavier, I zipped the opening up so the gun didn’t fall out. Glancing over all the clips or magazines or whatever the hell they were called, I picked two that looked like they fit in the handle of the gun I had and hurriedly stashed them in my other pocket.

Zipping the parka up to my chin, I reached for the handle of the trap door and pulled.

Grunting, I lifted the stupid thing that weighed almost as much as me, but as I got the hatch halfway up, a fresh burst of gunfire erupted, echoing into the safe room.

Flinching, I dropped the door.

It slammed shut with such a heavy force, the entire floor shook, rattling my already frayed nerves. Belatedly realizing I needed something to keep the door open so I could get back in, I glanced at the shelves full of commando shit. There was only one thing that looked strong enough not to break under the weight of the hatch.

I grabbed another gun.

Positioning myself, I inhaled. “Okay you stupid door, don’t slam shut again and take off my fingers.”

I hoisted the hatch, glanced down into the hole and said a silent prayer.

Then, using my back against the underside of the door to keep it from slamming down on me, I half shimmied, half dropped into the freezing cold crawl space. My feel dangled, not hitting solid ground, and I regretted everything.

All the drugs, all the parties, all the times I was a shit to my stepmother.

But the one thing I didn’t regret was kissing a bodyguard.

Or sleeping with him.

A shiver that had nothing to do with the bitter cold and everything to do with the memory of his body inside mine raced up my spine and heat flamed my cheeks.

Three more shots rang out in rapid succession.

I jerked and one of my Ugg covered feet hit solid ground.

Shaking, scared out of my mind, but more determined than I’d ever been, I lowered myself into the crawl space and brought the hatch almost all the way closed. Carefully placing the second gun so the barrel would keep the door from closing all the way, I inched down. The full weight of the hatch landed on the gun and held.

I turned and looked around me at the almost pitch darkness.

Oh God.

“Shade,” I whispered, my eyes barely adjusting.

A single shot rang out followed by a curse.

I dropped to a crawl and aimed toward it.

THE SHOTS RINGING OUT CHANGED from long range rifle firepower to a fucking handgun.

My neck burning, pissed the hell off, I unloaded the last of my ammo from my M4 as shouting erupted from the side of the house.

“Who the fuck are you shooting at, motherfucker?” Candle yelled as five more shots rang out. “They’re dead!”

“Shade,” Summer called in a panic.

I whipped my head around.

At the back of the crawl space, under a sliver of light from the propped open hatch, Summer half crouched, half crawled toward me in one of my emergency parkas.

Rage hit as I heard crunching snow and caught movement in front of the cabin out of the corner of my eye.

Summer gasped.

Reacting on instinct, my hand closed over my Glock and I drew, aiming before I turned.

One hand on his rifle, outfitted in all black, Ronan held his other hand up. “All clear.”

Candle appeared behind him in a down vest and beanie. “You called me up here for this shit? Two fucking pussies in arctic gear that can’t shoot for shit? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I holstered my Glock and stepped out from under the deck as Summer came up beside me.

“Four,” Ronan corrected. “Two bodies are in the cabin.”

“Oh my God,” Summer whispered, pulling my jacket away from my neck. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.” Catching her wrist, I dropped her hand. “Leave it.”

Ronan’s gaze cut to my neck as Candle shook his head.

“They’re still fucking pussies.” Candle shoved his