But I don’t let go. I can’t. My fingers clutch the front of his shirt, my forehead pressing to his, as if that will somehow tether him to this world. I can feel the tremor in him, feel the heat of where the bullet hit, and the way the impact must have rattled his ribs. Still, he’s alive.
From the darkness ahead, a figure steps into the open, like he’s been waiting.
“Hello, Bri.” A familiar voice from my past. Words like silk over steel.
I don’t want to take my eyes off Jude. I want to deny it. I want to fight it. But I can’t. Because there is no running or hiding anymore from the greatest demon of my past.
So, I slowly lift my head to face the man responsible for so much death?—
—and my heart explodes like a grenade.
67
Vincent
TONIGHT, I’M GOING TO WAR FOR HER. FOR MY QUEEN.
Ifinish locking down the last cabin, securing the steel panels with the touch of a button.
Everything is in place—fortified, reinforced. Ten years. We spent ten years preparing this off-the-grid haven, securing it for the rest of our lives. When all of us are wanted men, Protocol X was designed to protect and defend. Attack when we need.
Thanks to Seth’s construction genius, the barn’s secure, the cabins are locked, and the perimeter is near impenetrable. We’ve set enough landmines, tripwires, and other fun surprises to take down a fucking army.
We, ourselves, are a five-man army, deadly in our own separate ways.
I take a moment to breathe, hands still on the cold steel of the last panel.
Then, the explosion rocks the ground beneath me. My heart skips a beat. I feel the earth tremble, a vibration in my very bones, like something is caving in, shaking the whole damn place. It’s a half-mile off, maybe five hundred yards.
Landmine.
But then, through the chaos, I hear it—a savage, blood-curdling scream. Yeah. It’s not just any scream. It’s the kind that only comes when one of those bastards stumbles into the bear traps.
I’m already moving before the sound fades, my boots pounding the dirt as I sprint toward the trees. Raphael made sure we knew every inch of this land, every tripwire, every placement of our mines. I dodge one, then another, feeling the burn in my legs as I push faster, further. Not the simplest when you’re as bulky as me. Rory is the fastest runner out of us. Jude is very close, but Rory insisted on a damn race, and he won. But he’s only the short sprinter.
Jude can run for ten miles. In the rain. With his shirt off.
Briella can’t run.
Blocking the distraction from my mind, I draw my handgun, its cool weight and familiar comfort in my palm.
Seth’s got his axes. Rory’s got his blades. Raphael has his arrows. Me? I prefer using my hands. Doing the dirty work like I always do. But I always come prepared with a solid handgun. Always have. Comes with a silencer, too. Jude really went all out when smuggling military-grade weapons after we sprung him from the prison transport.
Fuck, I need to stop thinking about him. Thoughts of him lead me to Briella.
So, I think of her harder. Her heart. Her smart mouth. Hershield. My armor slides into place. The beast is ready for battle.
Tonight, I am a weapon. And a warrior.Herwarrior.
I reach the clearing, and there he is—one of them, a piece of shit with his leg caught in the bear trap, writhing, his face twisted in pain. Ungodly sounds leave the weakling’s throat.
Doesn’t matter. I’m not wasting time. I close the distance in two quick strides, press the barrel of my gun to his head, and pull the trigger. Gloves are off now.
I hear more movement, figures stepping through the trees. I smile to myself, slipping into the shadows, using the brush and the thick cover of the trees to my advantage. I move likea shadow, mindful of my surroundings. The ex-underground fighter in me kicks in, every motion fluid, instinctive. Silent.
My hands are ready.
The first bastard I come across, I snap his neck with one swift twist, his body crumpling without a sound. The second, I take down with a quick bash to the skull, his head cracking against the trunk of a nearby tree. No match for my steel skull. Another one—he doesn’t even see me coming before my fist drives into his throat, silencing him in an instant. The last one, I leave no room for hesitation. A swift jab with the barrel of my gun, and his skull meets the dirt with a sickening crunch.
