Page 130 of Kneeling to Candy

Fucking hell!

Autopilot has me swinging my gun to my right, popping off a shot and capping the gunman square in the chest. He goes down hard on his back. Like us, these guards are wearing body armor. Not fucking around, I waste no time taking another shot. The bullet enters under his chin, exiting the back of his head. No coming back from that.

With my magazine empty, I curse, my attention preoccupied. As I unload and reload, my woman is peeking over the ledge.

“Two gunmen on the stage dead ahead,” Candy shouts over the gunfire.

Tank takes the shots in quick succession, his marks hitting home. He risks giving me a quick smirk. “This is fun.”

Ziggy barks a laugh. “Fucking Marines. Figures you’d like this part.”

“Usually don’t,” Tank admits, reloading with speed. “Had enough of this shit in the desert. A little different when you don’t have red tape to deal with.”

“Welcome to mercenary life,” Punk jokes through the comms. “Where all the bureaucratic bullshit doesn’t apply.”

“I like it.” With a menacing grin, Tank fires off another kill shot.

“If you’re looking for more work—” Piero says before Atlas cuts him off.

“Stop trying to pilfer my men, hermano!”

Piero throws his head back, laughing like a madman amid war.

A middle-aged man—possibly a bidder, judging by his expensive suit—makes his way to the holding area under the cover of his guards. He reaches into the pen, grabbing Stacy. She thrashes, hitting and clawing at the man like a cornered alley cat. I raise my gun, popping off one shot. It hits him in the back of the head, spraying Stacy in his blood. She staggers back into the protective hold of her friends as the middle-aged man’s body slumps over the railing of the pen, unmoving.

More men rush the arena floor, some trying to run for the exits while others make their way to the holding area, too greedy to leave their winnings behind.

It’s as I’m taking out as many men as I can that Candy grips my bicep. I brave a glance at her. Candy points to the auction floor, her face a mask of horror.

“It’s him! Butch, it’s Cú Sidhe.”

My eyes fly down the length of her arm to where she points near the pen. Sure as shit, O’Conall is in my sights, surrounded by guards. He wastes no time opening the gate of the holding area and rushing in. Before I can get my gun up to take a shot at him, he’s grabbing Jolie, yanking her tight to his body. Fucker has created a human shield. He knows we won’t shoot. Firing at him from this far away would be risky. Jolie could get hit instead.

“Fuck!” I holler into the comms. “O’Conall has Jolie. I can’t take a shot and not hit her.”

“We’re working our way toward the main staircase,” Gauge shouts through the comms, gunfire heard in the background. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Give me five to get to the control center to cut the power. That will help,” Chase drawls through the comms.

“There’s no time,” Candy argues, fear lacing her voice. “She needs help now.”

“Slow him down,” Punk yells through our ear pieces.

Ziggy fires off a shot, hitting one of O’Conall’s guards in the leg. Tank fires another two, taking one guard from behind as he covers the rat bastard’s back.

O’Conall turns to see two of his guards are down. His cold eyes rise to meet mine amongst the chaos. A trace of cruel smile tips his lips. He dashes through the throngs of people, pulling Jolie along for the ride. I aim for O’Conall, but the crowd of patrons swallows him out of my line of sight.

Candy is beside herself, fretful tears spilling down her rosy cheeks. “He’s getting away!”

“Stay put,” Atlas orders. “We’re coming.”

“Not good enough,” Candy clips, jumping to her feet. Her face is set in a mask of determination.

Sensing she’s about to do something reckless, I’m fast on my feet. Catching her by the arm before she reaches the door, I swing her around to face me. “Where are you going?!”

“Butch, he has her. She’s an innocent. He’ll destroy her if he gets away,” Candy all but sobs, her voice raw with insistence. “We have to help her.”

“Not ‘we,’” I rectify, my voice harsh with authority. “You need to stay put.”

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