“How lovely. Though I think he would have been much better off if you’d explored the former. Seems the boy could use?—”
The gunshot sounded before I had time to process it. Watching time unravel by milliseconds, the bullet found its home in the man’s head, blood and brain matter splattering across the face of one of the ten men who stood behind him. His body swayed, eyes rolling back before he collapsed lifelessly to the ground, all eyes shifting to the one responsible for pulling the trigger.
Thorne.
And every preconceived plan went out the fucking door as chaos ensued, growing worse with each passing second. Screaming from behind ushered me to glance at my father, who was red in the face, spit flying from his mouth as he pointed toward the soldiers.
There wasn’t anything I could do. I turned to Matt, hoping to receive any form of guidance from him, but he was equally as stunned, except for the grin coating his face.
Two more gunshots pulled me from the trance I’d lost myself in, watching as the men we’d come to meet with dropped like flies. And the one responsible? The one continuing to slaughter them as if he were somehow impenetrable?
Was Thorne.
His movements were unmatched, the speed and precision with which he worked shedding light on why my father had selected him as a commander. Sliding across the ground as one of the soldiers fired, he freed his utility knife from his thigh. Pushing himself up, he ran it across one of the men’s throats before pivoting and driving it into the head of another.
In seconds, only six remained.
Charging forward, he found his next victim, freeing a sharpened blade from his utility belt. With four precise stabs, he drove it into the man’s side, shoving him off and to the ground as he did the exact same to the one who remained unmoved regardless of his approach.
Four.
From the side, a blur of black stole my attention as Liam raised his gun, pulling the trigger. It met with deadly precision, taking down another member of the former soldiers my father had planned to kill us with.
Matt followed after, unloading another round to aid Thorne, not that he needed it. It was a best friend trying to prove himself once again, a redemption that wouldn’t be heard or noticed due to Thorne’s rage.
And I?
I stared like a fucking dumbass, unsure what to do without a plan. Maybe… Maybe Thorne had been right the first time to keep me at base. I wasn’t prepared for this. I never had been, because the sight of the blood… the sight of men dropping had me fighting back tears. Nausea rolled in my stomach, brewing hot at the carnage on display.
Turning to focus on the only man who comforted me in moments of collapse, I watched as Thorne flipped his selected knife in his hand, driving it forcefully into one of the last-standing males’ throats. With a deep inhale, his shoulders rose before falling to settle in a near-chilling manner, and he spun on his heel to face me.
Crimson stained his face, painting him in all the lives he’d taken. The vibrant hue his irises once contained was gone, nothing but a masked killer standing before me, one who’d forgotten about the last?—
Raising his pistol without so much as batting an eye, he fired off a round to the right, and I turned just in time to watch the bullet tear through the soldier’s forehead.
They were dead. All of them were dead.
But that wasn’t what drew my attention.
It was the click of a safety being released as I twisted to observe my father… myfatherraising a gun toward Thorne.
He was going to kill him for unleashing his fury on his deal, his plan… his entire life. He would not let this man walk free, and I couldn’t shout or warn him about his impending demise. My father was an excellent shot, and I’d witnessed him practice it more than once.
Thorne would not survive.
Blinking back salt water, it was instinct that took over, my legs pumping before I realized I was moving. There was no time to tell him anything. No time to say everything in my mind, but I hoped… I hoped he would be happy.
“Th—”
The gunshot echoed, piercing me with a flash of pain so hot I instantly hit the ground. There was nothing but the sensation of ringing in my ears, adrenaline replacing the agony I’d originally experienced. I was going into shock, my lungs refusing to catch the air I needed, and yet, the only thing on my mind was him.
Had I saved him? Was I the only one hit? Was… Was he okay?
Attempting to lift my hand, I cried, the sound warbled. Grunting, I somehow managed to flip onto my back, crimson staining my side. Looking down, the panic and pain returned as I stared at my stomach.
The bullet had hit, and there was so much blood…myblood as it coated my hands and floor.
“OREN!” The gut-wrenching scream came from the man I never thought I’d hear say my name again, the two syllables fracturing as they left his lips.
