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“Past the storage, second door on the left. One man is at the door, but there are men coming from the storage maze.”
Thinking fast, I whip to Ronan. “I’ll take this side.” I point to the left of our direction and turn to go. Ronan’s fierce grip cups my elbow, jerking me back to his chest. I glower up at him, and his features turn dangerous. “You’re staying with me.”
My brows furrow. “No, the quicker we kill them, the faster this is over, and we get the kids.”
“We do this together.” He narrows.
I blink, as more bullets ring. His breath is harsh and mine is too, it’s hot in here, the gunshots are ricocheting everywhere, shouts are bouncing off the walls, and it's no time to debate.
I study his face, his brows furrowed deep and wary in his eyes. My heart plummets as I look at him. “I thought you trusted me.”
The visible lines ease away, but his hard stare never falters. “That’s not why I want you beside me.” Ronan’s grip softens on my arm. “If something happened to you, and I’m not there.” His gaze warms from the cold glare, clenching his jaw to hold back whatever emotion that’s gathering in him.
Just when I thought my heart could tumble, it lifts and burst into beautiful colors. “I’ll be okay,” I whisper, softening my stare. “Trust me.”
Sweat forms on his forehead as his eyes bolt over my face as if he's calculating every move that can happen. Then his lips pinch. “Fuck,” he breathes harshly through his nostrils. “Meet me at the end.” His jaws clench and his hold on my arm doesn't leave until he steps back, like it's taking everything in him to step away from me.
I don't stay any longer. I jog off to the side, diving past the towering shelves. Clattering and loud footsteps fill the space. “Logan said there's been a breach. Those assholes are here,” a male's voice says in frustration.
The other growls in return, “Jax said they were dead.”
I bring my gun to my shoulder and tilt my head to aim. The taps grow closer, and I peer to the side past the cracks in the uneven box placements, the two men are heading in my direction. I swallow, steadying my position, strolling slowly.
They round the corner, and I fire. A bullet strikes one man in the neck, but the second guy ducks, running back in the direction he came now, spraying his bullets at all the boxes. I bend down, running fast, before making it to the end. I fix my position, resting against the corner shelf.
“Come out, asshole,” he coos viciously. Then he shoots again, and I gasp, lowering once more, so the bullets don't collide. I drop to the floor, pretending he’s hit me, my boot slightly poking out. He starts chuckling, happy with his work, as if he made the hit and killed me.
“These dick heads are in the front, and I got one.” I can hear the grin on his lips, pleased with himself.
I count the steps he makes toward me; then, once he’s rounds the corner, I shoot him in his head. “I got one, too.” He collapses, falling against the shelf, and a black plastic bin tumbles smashing down on his head, snapping his neck.
I wince from the grotesque view, picking myself up from the cold floor. “Bedford, anymore?”
There's a slight static before I can hear him. “Only near Ronan, but—” He stops, and my heart takes flight. “Whelp, that was it. There’s none that I can see on my end.”
I nod, releasing a breath before jogging around the confusing path, still on alert in case some idiot is hiding inside a bin. By the time I make it to the end, Ronan is coming out with blood splattered on his face. Then a second later, Levon appears. Ronan’s tight expression relaxes slightly, and his shoulders sink once his wild eyes land on me. I grin at him, silently letting him know I willalwaysbe okay.
We focus back on the opening. “Boone meet us at the location. The men are down. All hands on deck.”
With the men down now, things may go smoother, but I’m not so sure because I’m positive Victor heard all the commotion. Jax better make sure Victor sends nothing or tries to kill himself.
“How about the one who was posted outside the hostage's door?” I asked Bedford.
“He’s no longer there. My guess is: He ran off, or you already killed him.”
“I’ll take the latter,” Ronan says.
Past the storage shelves, there's a large opening that narrows down a short hall. Two doors on each side of the walls, a dark blue chair sits outside, indicating a man was initially here.
Their screams are raw, and their helpless cries make my heart ache. Never have I heard such agony and genuine fear.
Ronan’s heavy steps pick up, hurrying to the room, and we quickly follow behind. Boone and the three that were with him, Mal and Red’s team, rush behind. But one man is missing.
“Zachary was shot,” Red said approaching. “He was able to make it out to the bus to wrap up.”
“We’ll get him cleaned soon,” Ronan responds before opening the door, and my stomach drops.
Oh, hell.