I press my palm more firmly into hers as an indication that I’ll take her. Those blue eyes avert from mine, glossed in sadness when something sharp slices right through my right shoulder.
I glance down, immediately finding blood seeping through the material of my black shirt, and my mind instantly goes into defensive mode.
My fingers wrap around Bay’s wrist as I yank her forward and behind me. My eyes are already scanning the small group of people huddled together until I hear Cairo to my left.
“Sniper!”
Shit.
I feel Bay trying to tug at my hold, probably to get to her sisters, but that’s not where my brain is at—right or wrong.
Pivoting, I drag her with me, calculating the distance between where we currently are and the parked cars we arrived in.
Too far.
“I want someone on that hill, like, five minutes ago!” Cairo orders from somewhere, and there’s only one thing I can do to get Bay somewhat safe.
“Ground.” I abruptly turn, her chest slamming into my bicep as I yank her down to her knees, and I haunch low.
I hear her mutteredoomphas she hits the grass, and I scan the area again.
The girls are gone, alluding Cairo or one of our men already has them safe in case we were ambushed at Wallace’s funeral—which doesn’t totally shock me.
“My sisters—” I don’t listen to a word she’s saying because they’re fine. My main concern is that she’s not harmed in any way. “Ozzy, you’re bleeding.”
I’ve bled before.
“Lay down,” I command mindlessly, searching the hilltop and the small throng of trees nearby.
“But—” My glower slices down to her, and all I see are those lips I want to touch with mine before I’m met with those familiar blue eyes.
“Now.”
Another twinge of discomfort hits me again, this time along my bicep, and I know I’m the target.
We’rethe target.
I don’t have to look to see I’ve been hit again, but I can’t pinpoint where the shot is coming from.
It really doesn’t matter.
We’re sitting ducks, and the car is too far away to use as cover. Her being down someone’s scope will be too long for them to get a good shot.
Mindlessly, my body falls on top of hers as a shield, covering the top of her head with my palms as I squeeze her to me. My heart thrashes at the warm contact, but I dare not move.
Not when her life is at risk, and so is mine if something happens to her.
I can endure this.
I have to.
It doesn’t matter how emotionally and physically taxing it is to be this close; Bay’s life is at risk.
“It’s okay,” I hear her whisper underneath me, a tad strained from my body on top of hers. “Close your eyes and breathe.”
I don’t like that she can feel my anxiety coursing through my veins, or maybe it’s my heartbeat that gives me away. It’s a weakness she’s discovered within seconds of us being pressed up against each other.
However, she’s probably already picked up on it since I don’t like being touched.
