I’d complain but with our other hands locked together, I have to trust he has a plan, and this is definitely faster.
Falco sprints from the kitchen but not before I get a painfully long look at the two dead men in the kitchen.
One shot to death and the other, utterly silent with his head stuck at an unnatural angle.
Falco broke his neck.
He’s strong enough to do that with his bare hands?
My stomach lurches and the burn of bile creeps up the back of my throat as Falco kicks open the back door and sprints out into the garden.
I clutch at the back of his shirt with my free hand, struggling to control the urge to vomit as I’m jostled about on his shoulder.
As firm as his grip around my legs is, he’s running without much care.
We have to get away, we have to?—
“Falco!” I yell too late and the third man who darts around the side of the building opens fire just as I scream.
The jolt that moves through Falco as he’s shot is terrifying.
The impact makes his body shudder and coil forward, then I’m free-falling through the air as Falco topples to the ground.
I land hard on the grass, the impact forcing all the air out of my lungs in a harsh gasp.
My wrist twists painfully as I land next to Falco who hits the dirt and doesn’t move.
“Falco?” I croak, fighting to get air back into my lungs while I roll over.
The chain connecting the two manacles of the cuffs has become painfully twisted, forcing the cuffs into a jarring angle that cuts into my wrist.
“Falco!”
He doesn’t move.
He’s face down on the ground with blood rapidly spreading across the back of his shirt.
In a blink, I’m back in the restaurant being carried away from his bleeding, motionless body.
Not again.
“Falco!” I slam my hand into his back, shoving at him with all my strength, but he doesn’t move an inch. “Please don’t be dead! Oh my god don’t be dead! Don’t be dead, don’t be”
A fist latches onto my hair from behind and drags me away from Falco as far as I can go with Falco a deadweight attached to my hand.
I kick out, my bare feet catching on cold blades of grass and damp soil.
A grunt follows the fist in my hair, frustration that I’m unable to move any further.
As I’m thrown to the ground, a boot comes flying toward me when I try to brace my hand in the dirt.
With no time to move, the impact hits me hard in my ribs and sends me rolling over my arm trapped to Falco, twisting it underneath me.
Hot pain throbs at my shoulder and I’m rolling off my arm when that fist is back in my hair, hauling me up a few inches.
His hand collides with my face, slapping me so hard my teeth rattle around my skull and my eyes roll.
I hit the dirt with a wet gasp, blood flooding over my tongue.
