Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
If we got out of this, the first thing we were doing was booking our trip to Tahiti. I really wanted to fuck my man right now. And then we’d talk about this fucking asinine suicide mission, because what the fuck? I was finally living my life, and he was going to end his?
I don’t fucking think so.
He couldn’t give me the sun and take it back.
Everything stopped in the next breath because Lane said, “I’m going to call your bluff.” He began to raise his gun.
My stomach dropped.
Then two things happened at once.
A minivan roared into the warehouse, and I pulled the trigger.
Chapter Forty-Four
Jake
Sawyer shot Lane.
Holy shit.
He stepped to the side as the minivan burst inside the warehouse, at the same exact time Sawyer pulled her trigger so her bullet grazed him.
Holy fuck.
Holy fuck.
She almost shot him. She did shoot him. She could’ve killed him.
He didn’t even wince as the bullet skimmed the side of his arm. He just stopped in his tracks and fixed Sawyer with an impenetrable darkness. Murder. He was going to kill her.
No.
No, he would not.
But as the three of us were holding in our death-off, the door for the minivan opened. The cast of Goonies spilled out of the minivan. It wasn’t the actual cast, but it was the same effect, as two dogs, four women who were pushing slightly older than middle age, two guys, and Blake Green flooded from the vehicle.
Later I would contemplate how all of them fit in there. Now, I wasn’t the only one caught off-guard. The four older women all had different weapons in their hands and they ran right toward Lane’s men. One was throwing out nunchucks. What the—I couldn’t even finish that thought.
Lane’s gaze zeroed in on Sawyer.
He began to raise his gun again.
So did I, and I was moving before he could pull the trigger. My feet took me to stand in front of Sawyer. I wanted to pull the trigger. My finger was itching to do it. It’d be so easy. I’d done it before. My blood was pumping fast through my body.
At the same time, Blake’s voice yelled over everyone. “Don’t! Don’t shoot. Stop.” She screamed, making her voice break. She looked as if she were trying to literally stop the bullets from passing through air, as if she had that power.
Lane’s reaction was swift, his eyes widening, jerking straight to her like she was a magnet for him.
Lane’s men turned their guns on her, except for the two defending themselves against Clara and Bess. I didn’t know the other two, but judging by the resemblance of the petite woman, I was guessing that was Sawyer’s mom. Her and the last woman weren’t doing anything. Clara was trying to karate chop a guy with her hands. Her knee rose up in a Karate Kid rendition while Bess was swinging the nunchucks. She had no idea how to use them so they were mostly banging up her arms as she was dodging them herself. Sawyer’s mom jumped in to give the guy’s shin a kick.
The fourth still wasn’t doing anything, except when one of them men turned a gun on the other women, a mean glint gleamed in her eyes and she charged him. She was using her body like a bowling ball. That was . . . That was a different fighting technique. He didn’t see her coming and she took him down. She was turning to repeat the process on another guy when Lane’s voice cleared the room. “Stop. Now.”
It was low but filled with authority. Everyone froze, adhering to his order.
Lane stalked forward, snarling at his men, “No guns pointed at her. Point them down. Now.” Anger was brimming over his face, the first real emotion I had seen on him. Most of his men realized their mistakes and corrected themselves, but two weren’t so fast.
Lane growled, shooting both in the head.
Their bodies fell to the ground.
The rest of his men scrambled, dropping their guns in their haste.
Also, fuck, he was a good shot too.
“Oh no.” Sawyer began crying. These weren’t soft or simple tears. They were soul-encumbered, big and fat tears that were rolling down her face. “My family.”
She started to go for them, but I caught her arm. “Give me your gun, babe.”
She shuddered, and I pulled her into my arms. Pressing her forehead into the crook of my neck and shoulder. I felt her push the gun into my hand and without letting her go, I put the safety back on and stuffed it inside my back pocket. Sawyer’s hands grazed mine as she helped put the flap back over it, then tugged my shirt on top. After that, she wrapped both her arms tight around me.
We were taking a moment.
“Round them up. Now!” Lane barked.
His men began going for Sawyer’s family, but they stopped when Green spoke up. “No.”