Brinleyâs eyes meet mine through the window screen and I wonder if Iâm already dead. If Iâm seeing those beautiful blues, I must be. But something in them isnât right. If Iâm dead, her eyes should be happy, full of the light and fire I crave, not angry and afraid.
Itâs when she raises the gun that I know Iâm alive and thereâs a good chance sheâs about to get herself killed trying to save me.
I shake my head no as carefully as I can so Jake doesnât take notice but she nods yes before taking her shot.
Fucking little brat to her core.
I watch in the same sort of slow motion I feel when Iâm in combat as the bullet whizzes by me and hits Marco somewhere in the chest. He grunts and whimpers and falls to the ground, dropping the barbed wire behind me. His gun is on the table. I watch as Brinley kicks through the door in her fucking Doc Martens. Sheâs got her hair in a ponytail and wears black jeans and a black tank top.
I realize this is a life-or-death situation, but fucking Christ, Iâve never been more desperate to fuck her, ever.
âDonât even think about it or Iâll shoot!â she calls in a shaky voice as Jake spins around and then looks at his gun, also resting on the table beside me.
Mistake number two: Never ever put down your fucking piece.
He sneers at her.
âLucky fucking shot. Youâre about to die, little girl.â Tough words for a guy who moves like a complete fucking pussy behind me, using me as a shield.
He looks down at Marco, and I grin. My little hummingbird hit him square in the chest. Heâs gasping and gurgling and bleeding out on the floor. Sheâs gonna be rewarded for an excellent shot the first chance I get.
âMaybe.â Brinley grips the gun tighter, lifts her chin and actually fucking smiles at him. âOr maybe, Iâve spent the better part of everyday learning exactly how to hit my target, isnât that right, baby?â she asks me without looking at me, one eyebrow raised.
Iâll admit, Iâve never known what love is, but this is the closest thing Iâve ever felt to it. Brinley looks like my fucking walking wet dream. Iâm gutted and broken but I actually feel my cock swelling with just the sight of her.
âTrue story,â I tell Jake, wearing a mangled grin of my own on my battered face.
âIt definitely doesnât make me a perfect shot, but it might make me good enough to hit you,â she adds sweetly.
âYouâre gonna go to jail for murder, you know that, right?â Jake grasps at straws, knowing heâs fucked. âYouâre gonna spend the rest of your life in jail for killing two men, for what? A man you just met two months ago?â
Brinley cocks her head to the side and speaks to Jake as if heâs a small child, the polite tone of her life before me, mixed with the wickedness Iâve helped her uncover. What a fucking combo.
âOh, I donât think so. I know how good my man here is at hiding bodies, and Iâm sure he would do an extra good job of placing you so deep in the dirt no one would fucking find you.â
âSure would,â I add with a smirk. I could fucking watch her like this all day long.
âFuck!â he calls out, heâs spiraling.
âThis,â I say to him. âThis is why you could never be president of this club, and itâs why your dad chose me,â I tell him calmly as Brinley stands firm in front of us. âBecause you arenât good under pressure, and you never, ever fucking think things through.â
I watch her eyes, they nervously move between me and Jake. Sheâs waiting for her chance, which wonât be easy because Jake is firmly planted behind me.
She knows if she advances, heâll have an opportunity to get his gun, and she wonât want to shoot him when thereâs a chance she could hit me.
âFuck you both!â Jake pathetically yells as he sucker-punches me in the kidney.
I donât even make a sound. I canât even feel the pain. Adrenaline courses through my blood with the need to get free and keep Brinley safe.
âYou canât stand behind me all night,â I coax Jake to move. Iâm ready to get this fucking over with.
âThe gauze on my arm,â I tell him. âSheâs already shot me once. And you see⦠my girl thinks Iâm a little crazy, but I bet sheâd do whatever I tell her to in this situation.â
âWhat the fuck are you talking about?â Jake asks.
âSure would, baby.â Brinley doesnât miss a beat as she readjusts her sweaty grip.
âIâll gladly take another bullet if it makes its way through me to get to you,â I tell him.
I make eye contact with her. I know him, heâs going to make his move.I nod at her and mouth the words she needsâ¦
âJust shoot.â
Just like I knew he would, Jake makes the wrong choice. He moves from my shadow, his arm reaches out for his piece on the table. The second he does, Brinley takes a shot. It may have been meant for his hand but it hits him in his forearm and instead of picking it up, he actually knocks his gun to the floor. He continues to reach but she shoots again, this time hitting him in the shoulder. He drops to the floor beside me, and stares up at me, poised to talk, probably beg, as Brinley moves toward him, probably for a better shot to take him out completely. Sheâs fast but not fast enough.
Jake reaches out and grabs her ankle, pulling her feet out from under her, she lands on her back. She turns over to get up but Jake dives onto her and locks his good arm around her shoulders, sliding it up to her throat in a chokehold. Her gun is still in her hand, but Jakeâs knee is on her arm and when he pulls her body up, she drops it. He makes it to his knees, holding her back to his front. Heâs stronger than her and he tightens his hold on her neck, but he canât grab her gun from the floor anymore than she can. His free hand is useless, blood pouring out of the shots she landed. I see the panic begin in her eyes. Heâs choking her. I will fucking gut him if she doesnât do it first. My eyes meet hers trying to calm her and remind her.
âBe stronger,â I tell her through gritted teeth struggling furiously at the binds that hold me.
She instantly seems to calm down and from there she doesnât hesitate for one fucking second as she dips her chin down, wiggling it under his forearm, then she finds the strength from somewhere to reach her hand backward and plunge her thumb into the bullet hole in his forearm. He howls as she spins out of his hold, picking up her gun and without any hesitation she shoots, hitting him in the stomach.
I expect her to stop but she doesnât. She shoots again, hitting him in the knee. He falls and slumps back against the wall, crying out in pain. Tears fill her eyes but she just keeps going, emptying the mag into him, one to the throat, where blood begins to leak in quick spurts, he covers the wound with his hand but it does nothing to stop the flow. She takes another shot that hits him in the chest. He hits the floor with a thud and blood spurts from his mouth. When she fires again and realizes itâs empty, her arm falls limp at her side as if the weight of the gun suddenly just became too heavy. Two big tears spill onto her cheeks, but she knows sheâs done her job.
I look down at Jake, this man I thought I could trust, and I feel absolutely fucking nothing as the life drains from him. I grin with the satisfaction of knowing my face will be the last thing he ever sees.
Mistake number three: Underestimating my fucking queen.