“Texas,” I said breathlessly, “we gotta get out of here. Is there any way the both of us could fit on the back of your--?”
“Not so fast,” a voice grunted.
“Lexi!” Chloe shrieked hoarsely.
Before I could even react, my best friend fell from my arms and crashed to the floor. A hand wrapped itself around the back of my neck, squeezing against my pulse points as my knees weakened. I recognized the voice instantly. I’d know it anywhere, any time of day. And as the man shoved me cheek-first against the wall, I saw Texas’s body drop behind me.
Completely unconscious.
“What did you do to him? Where’s my daughter!?”
“Lexi, no!” Chloe exclaimed.
The man from the hospital chuckled in my ear as something pressed into the small of my back. Something hard, and cold.
Like the butt of a gun.
“Now, it’s your turn to die, bitch,” he growled.
I tried to wiggle free as I bucked my hips. I locked my feet around the backs of his calves, but I couldn't shove myself away from the wall. He laughed as if this were for his own fucking amusement, then he gripped my hair and slammed my forehead into the wall.
While gunfire rang out above our heads like thunder during a rainstorm.
“Chloe! Run!” I yelled.
“Lexi!” Dean roared.
And that’s when the man turned his gun on them. “Drop your weapons, or she dies.”
“Where is she? Where’s Chloe” Stone asked.
“Let. Her. Go,” Dean demanded.
Then, as the guy cocked his body toward the throng of men that had him in their scopes, my arm had just enough room to reach for the gun Dean had given me before any of this fucking started.
“Fuck you,” I hissed.
I tilted the gun back as far as I could, and when I felt the tip of it catch at his side, I pulled the trigger. He roared out in pain and doubled over, giving me enough room to slip away from him. Texas started groaning on the floor before he leapt to his feet, pulling his gun before he even understood what the hell was going on.
And as I raced down the stairs to follow Chloe out the back door, gunfire pierced the silence once more.
“God damn it, Chloe! Come on!” I exclaimed.
“Shit!” she yelped.
As she stood in the middle of the road, I rushed to scoop her into my arms as best as I could. She couldn’t walk, and she was losing her voice, and every time I looked at her, she seemed paler than the last time I had laid eyes on her. I did my best to scoot her along. I did my best to help her move, even when she was in too much pain to do it herself. But a guy soaring toward us on a bike scooped her up while she screamed and held her arms out for me.
Dear fucking God in heaven, it felt like we got past one obstacle only to find another one, and I couldn't do it any longer.
“You let my fucking best friend go!” I shouted.
The door crashed open behind me, and I whipped around to see Dean aiming his gun at the man getting away on the bike. I held my breath, hoping and praying he was that capable of a marksman because we were out of options.
“He’s getting away. Do something!” I exclaimed.
And as Dean drew in a deep breath, he held it as he pulled the trigger. Over, and over, and over again. Discharging what seemed to be his entire magazine before he slowly lowered his gun.
And as I turned around, I heard the bike crash into a load of trash cans.
