Page 103 of The Outlaw's Savage Revenge

Too slow, asshole.

The knife leaves my hand as I launch myself forward, hitting the ground in a combat roll that ends behind him.

I wait for the bullets to rip into my back, the fatal sign that I missed him. But all I hear is a wet gurgle. Gunfire ceases.

Thank fuck.

When I turn, the knife is buried in his throat, the gun forgotten as his hands reach for the blade. Crimson pours between his fingers as he stumbles two steps forward before collapsing.

The quiet is deafening after the chaos, the only sound my ragged breathing. The world slows as the adrenaline leaches out of me, paving the way for the searing pain in my shoulder.

But it’s the warm wetness spreading down my side that pulls my attention.

Blood. A lot of it. It’s soaking my shirt and running down my pants in hot streams. My knees buckle and I catch myself against the truck, leaving a bloody handprint on the black metal.

My fingers feel clumsy and numb as I pull up my shirt.

One hell of a deep bullet graze, like death itself dragged a blunt knife through my obliques. Half an inch to the left and I’d be dead.

How the fuck did I get so lucky?

33

Luna

Being robbed of sight while the whole world falls apart around your ears is about the highest form of torture.

I can’t remember the last time I prayed so hard, every gunshot resounding like a hammer blow inside my skull.

Every thought constricts into one: Cade is out there fighting to protect me. If he gets hurt—if he died—what would I do?

All of a sudden, the gunfire stops. The silence that follows feels like the eerie calm after a storm, broken only by the crystalline tinkle of settling glass and my own ragged breathing.

My ears are ringing, and all I can hear now are boots crunching over gravel, back and forth, each step ending with a grunt. It’s Cade. It has to be.

The alternative makes my stomach twist into knots.

“Cade?” My voice comes out small and broken by panic.

Nothing.

“Saint, can you get up?”

Thedog doesn’t move a muscle. Awesome.

I lie, trapped on the floor of the truck straining to hear anything over the pounding in my ears.

I swallow hard, forcing my racing heart to steady as the crunch of gravel grows louder. Closer. A grunt then shallow ones.Is he hurt?

Just when I’m about to scream at the big lug pinning me down, the back door swings open.

I freeze.

“At ease, mate.” Cade’s voice, strained and clipped is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

Saint immediately lifts himself off me, his massive body climbing onto the leather seat then bounds out of the truck

I release a shaky, pent-up breath as tears slip onto the dark carpet. I didn’t even realize I was crying until now.

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