“No. Fuck this,” I tell him as I stand up and start firing off rounds.
“And fuck them. Fuck all these motherfuckers.”
Crow and Reaper take cover too, and someone tells the guards to hold their fire.
They try to hide behind posts and doors and tires and wooden pallets.
I walk and I fire.
And they go down.
One by one, they go down.
I hear them, rather than see them.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Their bodies fall in time to my heart.
And then one of the guards disobeys his orders and shoots me in the fucking foot. It hurts like a motherfucking cocksucker.
But I keep after it.
Limping my way to Storm. Rory joins me at my side, followed by the rest of the men a minute later.
“Jaysus,” Crow says, eyeing me like I’m insane.
“Aye,” Rory agrees. “And ye thought your woman was fecking crazy. Just look at the little monster I’ve created.”
“Indeed, you did, Frankenstein. Give yourself a pat on the back.”
We huddle behind the car and Storm crawls out to join us. She’s got a bloody knife in her hand, and I don’t have to ask if she used it.
“This is not what I signed up for,” she says.
“Are you alright?”
I check over her wound and she nods.
“What’s one more battle scar?”
“It’s a through and through,” Crow says after taking a look at her arm. “Just keep pressure on it.”
There are still a few stray bullets firing from around the house, but Rory and the guys pick them off within another few minutes.
And this time, they are all business.
Crow tosses everyone an AK from the case.
“I guess that’s one fucking way to do it,” Dom says. “Now that we know Storm’s safe.”
“It’s the only way,” I tell them. “These cowards won’t come out on their own.”
And so we form a chain. Five men and two women strong.
“Know how to shoot one of these things?” Conor asks Storm.
“No fucking clue,” she says as she takes the gun from him, anyway.
