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Rhodes---Exhale

I don’t have a clear shot.

Amelia is between us, and I will not fire unless needed, not with her in the way. I wait, hoping Duncan flies through the door. When he doesn’t, I tighten my finger on the trigger. Medina grips Amelia’s bicep and pulls her into himself. He has her in a chokehold, rendering her unable to break free. She can’t reach her other blade now. He croons into her ear, his features tight with anger. I see the resignation on her face and I know that there isn’t another way out. Medina laughs, spinning them to face the windows where the cars sit. I see his thumb pull the hammer back on the firearm.

I don’t think.

My finger pulls the trigger.

Medina’s body drops. Amelia stumbles forward, falling to her knees, her breaths nothing more than gasps. It is short lived as she rises, bewilderment on her face. Her head swivels, trying to determine where the newest threat is.

You are the only threat, kochanie.

I clear my rifle, and clamber down, running to the door. I see Duncan fling his door open when I cross his line of sight. Motherfucker.

When I enter the building, the door creaks, making her whirl around toward the sound. Not a second later, a throwing knife lands within a millimeter of my head. “Whoa,” I say, and when it registers who I am, there is relief dancing on her face.

“Ro,” she whimpers, before breaking into a run. Her knees are scraped and there is a mark on her temple from where she was held at gunpoint. None of it matters. I catch her, our bodies slamming into each other, and I fuse my lips to hers. Amelia scampers up my body, clinging to me as if I am her only tether to this life. I hold her to me, smothering her with kisses, and running my thumbs on her outer hips. She becomes heavier as the adrenaline leaves her body, and I feel the moment she relaxes.

“Rhodes. Gods. Oh Gods.” Amelia kisses me again. “I threw a blade at you.”

I pull back, finding her eyes bouncing between mine. “You are okay, baby. I had you. I have you, kochanie .”

“Medina is dead. I don’t know how he was shot, but he’s done. It’s over.”

I turn us, bracing her between my body and the wall. I snake one hand from under her and brush the hair from her face. “I know.” There is a moment of confusion and then realization dawns on her face. “I was watching you.”

“You had my back,” she says gently.

Nodding, I cup her jaw. “Always, Amelia.”

“Can we go home now?” Her voice is small, and I see her armor starting to fall. Adjusting my grip on her body, I walk us back to her car, setting her in the passenger seat before buckling her in. She murmurs in protest but allows it. My truck is tucked in the grove of trees, and it’ll stay there until Amelia is settled back home.

“Let’s go home, baby.” I slide into the driver seat, pushing it all the way back. As I adjust the rearview mirror, I see her fall asleep, the adrenaline leaving her body.