“You won’t be doing that.”
“You’re good, James, but you’re notthatgood. There are four of us.”
“And two of you are on the ground,” I remind him, but no one acknowledges me.
I could get out of this guy’s hold, but he’s got a gun on me. I don’t know what to do.
But before I can even think about it, Gideon shifts his aim to the guy writhing on the ground with a broken nose and pulls the trigger, shooting him right between the eyes.
Holy fucking shit.
“Mistake” is all I hear before Rogers pulls the gun away from my head, but instead of hearing a shot, I feel something slam against my head, and everything goes black.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gideon
That motherfucker pistol-whipped my girl.
As soon as she’s crumpled in his arms, I lift my weapon and shoot Rogers between the eyes and then kill the other two who were with them, and rush forward to grab Lena before she falls to the ground.
Sirens blare in the distance, and the next thing I know, Ryker and Willow are next to me.
“What the hell?” Ryker asks. “How?”
“I had a bad feeling.” Rage has a pulse as it flows through my body. “No oneknew she was here.”
“But she made that call,” Willow says, her voice shaking like crazy, and Ryker pulls her into his arms to comfort her. “Gid, she called Chelsea.”
That little bitch was the mole.
“Chelsea had to be in on it,” I say grimly as I dial the number for Eagle and first responders pull in.
I don’t leave Lena’s side as I climb into the back of the ambulance, still on the phone with the president and Bishop, and also talking with the local police.
“Her pulse and blood pressure are fine,” the EMT says.
“We’ll be on the ground in four hours,” Bishop says in my ear. “You stay with Blackbird.”
“I want answers, Bishop. This came to my fucking doorstep.”
“Four hours,” he repeats and hangs up, and I turn to my girl, looking so pale on this goddamn gurney. The drive to the hospital takes minutes, and then we’re running through the ER to a room, and I’m pushed aside as Lena is surrounded by doctors and nurses.
“I need this whole hospital locked down,” I bark at the security guard by the ambulance bay, who looks startled. “That’s the First Daughter of the United States, and I need this place locked downnow. Do you understand?”
“On it,” he says, speaking into his radio.
I don’t let Lena leave my sight as the doctors work on her, and finally, the one who seems to be in charge steps over to me and shakes his head.
My heart fuckingstops.
“If you tell me she’s dead—”
“No, she’s not dead. If you’re not her immediate family, I shouldn’t be telling you—”
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll fucking break your legs.”
His face hardens, but he must see the truth in my face, because he continues. “She’s unconscious, which tells me that hit to the head was harder than any of us would want it to be. I need to get images of her brain so I can see what’s going on.”
