Page 93 of Degradation (The Brethren Lords #3)

Devin

S he’s fast asleep, curled up, safe in my arms.

Everything in the world feels right for the first time in my entire life, and then I hear it.

That fucking noise.

It’s distant, far enough away for me to dismiss as my imagination. But I’m not an idiot, not a fool.

I spring up, waking her in the process and she cries out, before I wrap my hand around her mouth. I don’t know if it’s my brother or someone else, but it’s clear the place has been rumbled.

I scoop her up, barricade her in the wardrobe, then barricade the door to the room from the hallway so no one can get inside.

I’m naked, exposed, my dick is waggly from side to fucking side as I prowl through the house, with the assault rifle now in my hands.

I can hear the sound of gunshots, of a battle going off in the lower levels. Have they come for Paitlyn or for me? Perhaps it’s both, but either way, they’re going to end up dead.

I meet Malik on the second floor. He’s got someone pinned down behind a cabinet, and they keep taking potshots at him every few seconds.

He grunts when he sees me, but beyond that, the bastard doesn’t look phased.

“Can you hold it down?” I ask.

He grunts again so I turn, leaving him to it, and make my way back down the hall, back to the second stairwell. Someone is coming up it. Racing up it. They sound like an elephant, stomping away as they take each step. Stupid fuck, don’t they know that’s how you get killed?

I take aim, waiting until his leg comes into view through the banisters, and I pop one bullet into his shin. He screams, falling backwards and I land a second, blowing his head off.

Another comes right after, he’s just as easy to deal with.

The next few put up a half-decent fight. A bullet streaks past my thigh, giving me a delicious hit of both pain and adrenaline. I shoot my way down the first floor and to the basement.

As I reach the cupboard where we stashed Titus, I can see Mace, crouched, keeping him secure. The stupid fuck is moaning behind his gag, drawing enough attention, as though he wants to be killed.

I stick my head around the threshold and peer down to where Pearce’s makeshift cell is. When I see Elijah coming out, I feel a flash of relief, only, he doesn’t head back to what would be safety, instead, he’s flapping his hand, beckoning someone.

“What the fuck?” Mace murmurs suddenly beside me.

“I think we found our fucking mole.” I snarl, taking aim.

Elijah ducks down, keeping low, as Pearce is brought out between two other men.

I narrow my eyes, pulling the trigger, and hit right on target. Elijah’s head jerks back, his neck practically snaps in half as he hits the floor.

The other two men make a rush for it, dragging a clearly unconscious Pearce between them.

“Shoot them. Kill the fuckers.” I snarl, realising I’m out of ammo.

Mace lets out a hail of bullets. I reload, then join in and we see one of them go down, but the other manages to haul Pearce out the door, manages to shove him off to the waiting hands of someone on the outside.

I take a step forward, determined to kill every single one of them only I’m hit with a wall of flames.

“They set the fucking building on fire.” Mace states.

It’s a smart tactic. No way will I go after Pearce when Paitlyn is upstairs and could burn to death if I leave her.

“Get Titus, get him out to the van. I’ll get Malik and Paitlyn, and we’ll meet you there.” I order.

He nods back, moving quickly to do as he’s told. I don’t know where anyone else is, I don’t know if they’re alive or dead. And more importantly, I don’t know if I can trust them.

Elijah betrayed us. Who’s to say no one else is working for them?

Paitlyn is still where I left her. Still huddled up in the wardrobe, though she looks far more pissed now than she did before.

I pull her out, grab hold of her and my mouth is claiming hers before I can stop myself. She’s hesitant at first but I feel her melt into me, melt into this kiss.

When I pull apart, I swear she looks a little disappointed, although that could just be me imagining it. Wishful thinking and all that.

I scoop her up as she starts to ask a barrage of questions, and I throw her over my shoulder, before grabbing my bag, stuffing that precious jar into it, and racing out the door.

There’s a slow, steady stream of smoke. I don’t know how long it’ll be before the house is completely engulfed but I plan to be well away before that happens.

When we get to the van, I shove her in, shove her down onto the floor. Titus is there, laying like a dead weight. Malik is up front, Mace is clearly on guard, waiting for someone to attack.

“Let’s go.” I say, slamming the door shuts.

Malik hits the gas, and we speed off. Paitlyn tries to sit up, but I push my hand onto her, keeping her down. If there’s an ambush, if someone is ahead, waiting for us, then I want to ensure she doesn’t end up with a shit ton of bullets in her.

She shakes her head, clearly furious, and then she reaches out, her hand skimming my body.

“You’re injured.” She whispers.

I glance down, seeing that graze from where the bullet missed me.

“It’s a flesh wound.” I murmur, and only then do I realise, I’m still starker bollock naked.

I throw my head back and laugh. What Malik and Mace think I don’t know, but Paitlyn seems to be relieved by the sound, her features relax, her whole body seems to deflate as if the tension has gone.

“Where are we going?” She asks.

I don’t reply. I just stroke her cheek, reassuring her, reassuring myself too, that in this moment she is safe.