Hailey screams.
Apollo rounds the corner, shoving us out of the way a second before the bullet hits the wall.
At the bottom of the stairs, the shooter falls, two holes marking his head courtesy of Broadway’s Glock.
He’s still aiming the smoking barrel ahead, waiting for another target. “Saved your ass too many times to count.” He smirks at me over his shoulder, but the humor’s surface-level at best. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “Pull it together.”
More car engines growl outside. Headlights cut through the mansion windows, doors slam like whipcracks, and hastened footsteps crunch on the gravel. Reinforcements pour inside, yelling commands, and checking the first wave for survivors.
We dash downstairs, two steps at a time.
I yank Hailey back when she gets ahead, and we duck together as a flurry of bullets zips overhead.
“Stay close,” I hiss, tucking her behind me when three goons appear, firing bullet after bullet.
Broadway helps quickly, taking out a guy on the left while two pulls of my trigger deal with the others.
Ryder helps us along while Koby swears in the background whenever we get surrounded, clearly unhappy he’s missing the fun. The engine thunders in the background, growing louder in time with Koby’sfucks.
“Left, Boss,” Ryder says.
I follow his barked instruction, taking Hailey with me.
“Four on your right,” he adds.
More bullets come. A staccato rhythm punctuated by Noretto’s pawns scrambling to gain the upper hand.
“Fuck! Carter, on your right!” Koby’s voice bleeds in my ear.
“Focus on the damn road, Koby,” Ryder snaps.
If I had time, I’d chuckle, but as Koby pointed out, there’s a man on the right sending three bullets my way.
I let Hailey slide under my outstretched arm, out of the way, while I aim and fire. She briefly clings to my legs when I pivot, killing a fucker taking a shot at Broadway. It’d would’ve been nice if Ryder saw that one coming.
“She stays here!” someone yells a second later.
Hailey’s safely back behind me.
“If you want to get out of here alive, give me the girl!”
Wishful thinking.
I doubt he imagined those would be his last words, but Apollo’s bullet hits him square in the throat. The guy falls in cinematic slow motion, his face contorted in shock.
I bet he thought we’d negotiate... his mistake.
The calm lasts three seconds. Two more men take the dead guy’s place, and I tuck Hailey to my left, using my body as a shield in case either of them even thinks about taking a shot.
Bullets follow bullets.
Bodies thud all around, littering the parqueted floors like oversized, blood-smeared confetti. We’re barely moving. I count five more dead at my hand, another however-many at Broadway’s and Apollo’s, but Blaze’s men keep coming. For every one we kill, two new threats materialize.
“Behind you, Boss,” Ryder says, keeping a cool, level tone.
I spin round, shooting the approaching man.
“We’re four minutes out. Stay alive!” Koby booms, the squeal of tires telling me he’s drifting his way over here.
