Second swing is already loaded.
She tries to duck.
The bat catches her across the temple with a sound like a watermelon dropped off a roof.
Oksana goes down hard. Out cold before she hits the concrete.
The two guards freeze, hands halfway to their own guns, suddenly remembering city workers aren’t supposed to smile like serial killers.
I plant the bat on Oksana’s chest like a flag.
“Inspection’s over, boys. Tell the fire marshal the building failed.”
They both aim at me.
Shit.
There’s two quick muffled pops.
The guards drop.
“What the fuck, Madness,” Callum says, lowering his weapon from the warehouse entrance.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Callum
The bat’s light in my hand.
My fucking girl.
Didn’t call any of us.
Sent me to babysit a grown-ass man while she brought a bat to a gunfight.
And won.
One-on-one with Oksana.
I step over the body, barely looking at it.
My eyes flick to the others.
Men who had Juliet dead to rights.
We could’ve lost her today.
If I’d been one second slower noticing her tracker jump like that. If traffic had stalled. If…
The bat snaps through a crate’s corner with a crack like a gunshot.
Then another.
Splinters spray.
I can’t stop.
Next it’s my foot to ribs. Gunman’s body.
