The struggle to stay conscious, to fight and breathe through the pain is getting harder, but I refuse to give up.
They’ll have to kill me.
Lorell offers me a grin. “I do commend your spirit. You must really like her.” He squats in front of me. “I can understand that. She was a good fuck.”
This motherfucking son of a bitch!
I growl and try to push up, but he just chuckles as I collapse back against the dirty floorboards, all the energy zapped from my body as blood starts to pool under me.
That isn’t good.
None of this is.
It isn’t at all how it saw it happening—them coming here and infiltrating the mountain. I thought we’d have some warning, some hint that this was coming before they arrived.
I never thought I’d fail so miserably.
My eyelids grow heavy, the barn darkening even more, but the sound of a familiar growl makes my eyes fly back open.
A flash of white appears, and Gizmo flings himself toward Lorell, latching onto his arm with a vicious, snarling attack.
Giz!
If he’s here…
Lucky shifts into my line of vision, the revolver pointed at the man who destroyed her life and sent her running.
“No—”
Before I can stop her, tell her to run to Connor’s and seek his help, Lorell manages to send Gizmo flying across the barn with a yelp and turns toward her.
Lucky stands her ground, unwavering. “Thanks for the compliment. At least one of us had a good time.”
Good God.
Even terrified, staring down this man who abused her trust and tried to kill her, she’s fucking stunning. And seeing her here, so close to this kind of danger, helps clear some of the fog of pain from my head.
Enough to help me push it to the side and focus on what’s right in front of me—my axe leaning against the wall only a few feet away.
Almost within reach.
The head glints in the moonlight, and my hand itches to hold its familiar weight, to swing the blade straight into the man threatening everything I love.
Gizmo releases a whimper, and Lucky’s eyes dart to where he landed.
That split second is all it takes for the second armed man to sneak up behind her and pull the gun from her hand before she can get off a shot.
“No!”
She screams, kicking back, trying to get out of his hold, but he keeps her there, pressing his hand over her mouth as Lorell snarls at her and stalks toward them, his chest heaving.
“You fucked up everything!” His sinister gaze cuts to where Gizmo lies, barely moving. “You and that fucking dog!”
That fucking dog just saved my life—again.
Though, the reprieve is temporary.
Sticky blood seeps from my shoulder and head, the wooziness making any clear thinking more and more difficult.
