Dani tries to pull back as he leans down in her face, but he doesn’t relent. He has a crushing hold on her cheeks and just as my finger moves to the trigger, he pushes her away and straightens. She catches herself before face planting into the wooden floors, allowing her to say something to him. I watch as his face turns beet red and his fists clench at his sides. Marco sits on the couch laughing, which only makes Ivan even angrier. I aim down my scope and hold my breath. He kicks out, landing two hard kicks to her ribs before he falls to the side, blood splattering Marco on the couch. Time slows as I watch the delayed flinch from Dani as the glass window cracks around the bullet hole and the flinch from Marco as he reacts late, climbing up and over the couch for cover. I release the breath I was holding, reload, and aim down the sight for my next shot.
A third man is further in the house in what looks to be the kitchen, but from this angle, I can only see his shoes before they disappear behind a cabinet, probably taking cover. I assume that one is probably Andrei. I take another shot, hoping my bullet pierces the couch where I think Marco is hiding. It’s not a perfect shot, but from the way he runs farther back in the house clutching his arm, I at least succeeded in piercing flesh.
“Kayden, what’s going on?” Jaxon asks over the headset.
“I took down one bastard and shot Marco in the arm. I think Andrei is in there, too. Not positive if there’s anyone else though.”
“Do you want us to move?”
“Not yet, let’s wait to see if they make a move for the front door. I’ve bought Dani a distraction and she’s headed to the back door now.”
Dani pulls her shorts on before limping to the back door. The back floodlights turn on as she leaves the house, illuminating my spot on the cliff. My vision tunnels as I flash back to the abuse she endured in the Romani house. Deep in my gut, I know I’ve failed her again—I didn’t make it here in time—but the only thing I grasp on to is my anger, letting it root me in my focus.Allthese motherfuckers are going to die.
I stand up, prepared to make my way down the cliff when a sudden hot, searing sensation erupts in my left shoulder and it feels like I’ve been knocked back by a sledge hammer. I look down at the patch of blood blooming through my shirt, and a scream has me looking up again, desperate to find her. But she isn’t screaming in pain—there’s no one around. No, she’s screaming in fear as she looks up at my spot on the cliff, like she’s actually afraid for my life. I’m confused at first, and I stumble forward, just as another crack splits the night, the bullet grazing my ear as it passes. I feel warmth trickle down the side of my head before my senses come back to me and I drop to the ground. That’s when the pain finally hits.
Voices that I must have blocked out come back full force, and I can barely make sense of them talking over each other as I grit my teeth against the waves of pain.
“Kayden, are you there?”
“Kayden, talk to us!”
“I repeat, Kayden, are you there?”
“I-I’m here, but I’m hit. They have a sniper. It came from your side, James.”
“I saw him. We’re on it,” comes Emilia’s reply.
“Dani left out the back door. Jaxon, circle around back and see if you can find her. I need to make my way down the backside of this cliff. I’ll meet you toward the northwest corner of the woods.”
As I make my way down the backside of the cliff, I realize my arm is likely in hydrostatic shock as it hangs, affecting the nerves and making the arm completely useless. A high caliber round will do that—I know from experience. I can’t say I’ve ever been on the receiving end, though. Stopping near the bottom, I set down the duffel bag and dig out the first aid kit. I tear open a pack of QuikClot with my teeth and shove the packing into my wound, biting my tongue until I taste blood to keep from shouting out and giving away my position. It stems the bleeding for now, at least until Donovan and Axel get here to set me in a makeshift sling.
“I’m a little held up here, Kayden!” Jaxon yells through my headset, each word punctuated by a gunshot.
“Sniper is down, Kayden. James took a bullet in the leg, though,” Emilia says, before continuing sarcastically and maybe a bit lovingly. “Stupidcabrónalways trying to play hero.” (Asshole.)
I pack away the first aid kit and abandon the duffel bag behind a tree. With a useless arm, there’s no way I’m going to carry it around. As much as I hate abandoning it, I kneel down, stock up on ammo, and push off the ground with my gun in hand. I know I have to get to Jaxon, but I also need to find Dani. I’m torn between going toward the sound of gunshots or heading to the back yard where I last saw her.
I don’t have long to think about it, before a cry comes through the headset.
“Kayden, Emilia, I could really fucking use your help over here,” Jaxon says desperately.
“I’m trying,cabrón, but James’s leg isn’t going to tourniquet itself.”
“I’m almost to you, Jax,” I respond, pushing past the thick underbrush. “How many are there?”
“Right now it’s just Marco. Motherfucker shot me in the side.”
“At this rate, Emilia, you’re going to be the only one that comes out of this unscathed,” I reply sarcastically.
“Shut up, asshole, and get your ass over here andhelp me!”
I step out from behind the tree next to Jaxon, raise my gun, and shoot. Marco cries out as he’s kneecapped, crashing to the ground as his leg gives out beneath him. On all fours, he tries to find my location in the trees, but fails, firing blindly. I decide to step out of the shadows and into the moonlight, firing my gun only once more. Marco’s head jerks back with the impact before he topples over—a direct shot between the eyes.
Satisfied that he’s no longer a problem, I look at Jaxon to find that he’s no longer there. Confused, I turn in a full circle, trying to find where he went. Just before I start calling his name, I spot his shoe behind a large pine and make my way over.
His eyes are pinched closed and his breathing is labored as he holds a hand to his side.
“Hey, Jax. You OK, man?” I ask. In the moonlight I can see the thick, dark blood welling through his fingers, and I curse myself for leaving my duffel bag behind. He’s pale and I know just from looking at him he’s losing too much blood, too fast.
