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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

HENDRIX

T he scream sent a chill down to my bones.

It sounded like an animal’s wail, and I shivered because whatever helpless creature was out there, it sounded like it was in pure agony.

Anna’s face whipped to face me as we walked past reception, and she asked, “What was that?”

My body jerked as two gunshots exploded from outside, and I froze for a split second before turning to my woman and resting my hands on each side of her neck, angling her face so she looked me directly in the eyes.

“Go get Sophie and Atlas,” I ordered, injecting urgency into my tone. “Then go to Dad and whatever happens, stay upstairs with JT.”

“Jamie—” she began, but I cut her off with a shake of my head.

“Don’t argue with me, Freckles. Just go.”

She jerked a nod and turned away to rush down the corridor, where thankfully the guest rooms were situated.

I headed for the doors, and taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders, preparing myself to walk outside, all the while telling myself to brace for what I was about to see.

The last time there was a shootout here, Daisy and Ace were involved, and my heart began to pound at the prospect of seeing his smug face again.

When it came to that asshole, anything was possible, and although I didn’t think he’d have the guts to show up at my place and say his shit with his chest, he was usually involved when trouble came knocking.

I was so convinced I’d see Ace that when I got outside, my body locked when I was confronted with the absolute fucking bloodbath on the steps of my hotel.

Sam Grady, the bass guitarist for Saint’s Rapture, and a client, lay on his back with half of the skull he had left tilted at an angle, with the one eye that hadn’t been blown off staring vacantly at the moon.

Another scream went up, and my head jerked down the steps to see Diablo trying to drag Saint away from Jacob, who lay on the floor, unmoving.

“ No !” she shrieked. “ He needs me. Let me go !”

“I need to see to him, Saint,” Diablo bellowed. “I need room. Let me help him.”

My throat closed up from the lump that formed there, and my brain short-circuited, my mouth opening in horror as I suddenly clocked the pools of blood dripping from the steps.

There was so much that it had left a metallic scent hanging in the air, and it made my stomach churn.

Even Saint was covered in the stuff. It was on her clothes, her face, even in her hair.

Diablo suddenly spotted me, and he bellowed, “Sam shot Iceman. Get help.”

My chest twisted.

What the fuck did he mean, Sam shot Iceman?

What the hell was going on?

At that moment, Saint managed to wriggle from D’s hold, and she raced toward Iceman, skidding onto her knees and throwing her body on top of his, chanting, “No. No. No. Baby, please wake up, please.” She lifted his head so gently and so reverently that I could’ve cried.

Instead, I gulped as she cradled Ice in her hands, sobbing, “Jacob, baby. Please wake up. Please don’t leave me, baby. I need you.”

“Jesus,” I rasped. My mind began to race, and I knew I had to pull my shit together, I just didn’t know how. I’d been to war, and I’d witnessed shit like this before, worse in fact, but seeing my best friend so unexpectedly laid out like that was screwing with my mind.

My fingers clenched and my jaw locked as I strode toward my brother with my heart in my mouth and my thoughts in tatters.

By the time I got to Ice, Diablo was already there, pulling Saint off him again.

She screamed again, but then suddenly, all the fight left her, and she turned and buried her face in Diablo’s chest, sobbing her grief out.

Horrified, I stared down at my brother’s dark blond hair, which, by that time, was stained with his own blood, and I just wanted to puke.

A familiar voice suddenly barked, “What the fuck?”

I looked up to see Atlas and Sophie racing toward me. My brother immediately took out his gun, looking around for possible threats. “Have we got a shooter?”

“No,” Diablo barked. “Sam shot Ice. I shot Sam.”

“Fuck!” I scraped out, my brain suddenly coming back online. I kneeled down beside Sophie, who was preparing to start CPR on Ice. “What can I do?”

“Looking at the trajectory of the entry hole, I think a bullet hit his lung. I’m gonna have to crack his chest open. I need a clean room where I can operate. ”

“Diablo,” I roared. “Get Gopher to prep a medical room and then call Bones and Freya. Need Blade out here too.”

“Already here, boss,” my VP shouted as he raced down the hotel steps.

My eyes fell on Saint, who was wrapped around Diablo like a spider monkey. “Get her in the bar and get a whiskey down her. I need to know what the fuck’s gone on.”

He nodded and pulled Saint from Diablo’s arms, crooning gently to her as he tried to soothe her wracking sobs.

She began to struggle again. “I’m not leaving him,” she screeched. “I’ll tell you everything, but I won’t leave Jacob.” Her tear-streaked and bloody face turned to me. “Sam’s the stalker. He was going to shoot me, and Jacob dived in the way. He saved my life.”

“I came out and saw it all,” Diablo confirmed. “By the time I’d pulled my weapon, Ice was already down.”

“Jesus,” Blade muttered.

“Don’t make me leave him, please,” Saint implored. “He needs me.”

I moved toward her, my throat contracting with grief.

But I had no choice; I had to keep my shit together. I had to be a fucking Prez while my best friend bled out yards away from me. My eyes flicked down her body, taking in her blood-stained clothes. “We need to sort you out, Saint. You’re covered in his blood.”

Her eyes dropped to her clothes, and she looked at her hands as if she’d never seen them before. “I don’t care. It’s his blood, so I don’t care.”

I took in Saint’s stricken expression and her tear-streaked face, covered in my brother’s blood. She looked like she’d stepped out of a horror movie, and I knew Iceman would go crazy if I left her in that state .

“I’ll strike a deal with you, Saint,” I offered, my voice urgent. “Let us clean you up while Jake’s in surgery. He needs help. Sophie’s a doctor, a good one. She’ll sort him.”

Her eyelids drooped, and her hand went to her shoulder as she slowly nodded.

A group of men appeared and, between them, gently hoisted Iceman up and carried him inside the hotel.

I took the opportunity to slide my arm around Saint’s waist and gently lead her after them, murmuring softly as we went.

Every step felt like a mile, and the weight of what had happened pressed down on my shoulders like an oppressive blanket I couldn’t shake off.

Saint held onto my cut with bloodstained hands, her hiccups jerking her entire body. She was obviously in shock at what she’d witnessed, so when we finally reached the entrance and she stumbled, I didn’t think anything was amiss.

“Saint,” I muttered, holding onto her tighter. “You okay?”

My blood ran cold as her feet faltered and she fell to her knees, and I called, “Saint?”

Heart pounding in my chest, her body turned deadweight, and I lowered to the ground with her, trying to shield her head from bouncing off the concrete as she let out a pained moan.

“She’s bleeding!” somebody shouted, and suddenly Freya was there, pushing me out of the way while she dropped to her knees and murmured soothing words to Saint as the woman’s eyes fluttered closed.

Freya began to check her vitals before running her hands over Saint’s body, looking for wounds. After a few seconds, she announced, “GSW to the shoulder. She’s losing blood.”

“I didn’t see her get shot,” Diablo argued. “Just Ice. ”

“Well, she did,” Freya confirmed. “The blood’s hers as well as Iceman’s.”

My heart dropped, and my chest clenched.

“Get her down to the med wing,” Freya ordered. “I need to take a look and stem the blood flow.”

Diablo stooped and picked Saint up, tucking her into his huge arms bridal-style. “Let’s fuckin’ go!” he shouted, striding through the hotel doors after the men carrying Ice.

My eyes caught on Freya, who ran after them, and I heaved out a breath, running a hand through my hair. I couldn’t stop one question from running through my brain.

What the fuck’s going on?