She steps away, screaming.And then all hell breaks loose.There are more gunshots, knives are drawn, shouts, and yells.
The asshole holding me takes one to the leg and stumbles, the knife falling, but he doesn’t let go.He clings tight to my upper arms.I twist and tug and pull at the tight clamp of his fingers.He doesn’t let up.
A roar at my side and a furious Reaper is there, serrated knife in his hand.He goes for a neck stab and buries the blade deep.Blood spurts from my tormentor’s neck.
“Die and burn in hell.”Reaper clutches the biker’s face and stares into his eyes.“And know it’s because you touchedheryou’re dead.”He withdraws the blood-coated knife then buries it deep again.The guy is blacking out fast.His lips pale and his pupils widen.
“Reaper,” I gasp, backing up.
The room is mayhem but all I see is the violence, the vengeance, the absolute fury in Reaper’s blood-spattered face.
The biker falls to the floor and lands in a pool of his own blood.Dead.
Reaper grabs me and pulls me out of the line of fire between Tank and Eye Patch Guy.“Stay down.”
He half hides behind the counter as he fires off a series of sharp shots.A grunting yell tells me he hit at least one target.
“Die, bastard!”Tank shouts and there’s another thump, a body hitting the floor.
Consuela looks at me from where she’s cowering beside the refrigerator.She looks so fragile and young.I hate that she’s experiencing this.
“Jesus.”Reaper straightens and drops his gun to his side.“What do you reckon, that them all?”He looks at me.“Are there more upstairs?”
“One.”
He flicks his attention to the stairs.
“He’s dead.I shot him.”
“Fuck.”He reaches for me and pulls me close.“I’m sorry you had to do that.”
I look up at his face, at the wildness in his eyes.“I had no choice.”
“You survived.That was your choice and you took it.”
I gulp and a tremble goes up my spine.My knees are weak, barely supporting my body.
“Hey.”He runs a hand over my hair.“It’s okay.I’m here now.Nothing gonna hurt you.”
I close my eyes.Instantly the violent images of death fill my mind.I gasp.
“Aw, honey.”He pulls me closer still, his leather cut soft and his body strong and solid.
“We gotta get out of here,” he says after a moment.“This place needs to be torched.”
“What?”I pull back and look around.“Why?”
“Best way to get rid of evidence.And there’s a lot of it.”
He was right, there were four bodies in the room.Eye Patch Guy lay with his limbs akimbo on the floor beside the sofa with a bullet in his temple.
I struggle to feel empathy for him.It was either he bite the dust or me.I’d been a wound dressing away from being dead at his hands.Consuela too.
