Page 1 of Guarding The Phoenix: Vol. 2

Chapter one

This Means War

Axel

Thepoundinggaitofmultiple footsteps approached the yacht. With guns drawn, I charged up the stairs silently in case it was the enemy. Kylie was safe. I’d ensure she remained that way. Even if it meant I had to leave men I considered my brothers behind to get her to safety. She’s freaked out and terrified. I didn’t blame her. The blitzkrieg style attack had tested her resilience fiercely.

And we weren’t out of the woods yet.

On deck, I raced into position. Using the yacht wall for cover, I peered over the edge. Gideon, Mateo, and Chase raced down the dock toward the boat. Behind them, Santos’s men closed in fast. Dark splotches of blood coated Chase’s left arm. Thank fuck, he was still alive. Must be a flesh wound because he kept pace with Gideon and Mateo on their mad dash.

I murmured a quiet prayer of thanks he wouldn’t be pushing daisies soon. Our line of work came with life and death stakes. But we signed up for it knowing the risks, willing to pay the ultimate price.

But the bill wouldn’t be paid today.

Sighting down the Glock barrel, I picked off mafia thugs one by one. The dock created a pipeline they had to funnel down. It made it like shooting fish in a barrel.

Weapons were my specialty. I could shoot any gun you put in my hands. And it didn’t bother me that I experienced a sadistic satisfaction every time one of those assholes went down.

We were escaping enemy clutches alive and intact. The moment they reached the boat, we would take off. If Santos’s men captured us, we would be executed. Then Kylie would be alone and defenseless against a monster.

Fuck that!

I would never leave her unprotected and would use every breath in my body to keep her safe.

It didn’t matter if I was six feet under. My ghost would be at her side, standing as a shield between her and them. No one would hurt my woman. I would defend her against all foes.

The guys were twenty feet away and picking up speed. More men spilled onto the dock, and I kept picking them off one at a time. Bullets whizzed by and I prayed they didn’t hit the yacht. Damn thing wasn’t bulletproof.

Then they were fifteen out.

Ten feet left.

And then only had five to go.

“Go. Go. Go!” Gideon roared with a determined scowl, waving his forearm.

Chase and Mateo boarded the bottom deck at a sprint. Chase didn’t stop and say anything. Just hustled past me and mounted the stairs two at a time, racing toward the helm. Gideon unhooked the ropes mooring us to the dock and shoved the boat away from the wooden pylons, moving it away from the dock before he took a flying leap.

He flew over the water, airborne as more goons spilled out of the tunnel onto the dock. They were shouting and waving their guns in our direction. The rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire disturbed the silence.

Shit. If one of their bullets hit the engine or fuel line, this boat would go up like a powder keg.

Gideon’s feet landed with a hard thud. The boat motor thundered to life. And Chase—that fucking maniac—floored it. The yacht lurched forward. That crazy motherfucker could pilot anything and laid on the speed. The boat could reach a speed of fifty knots. He’d taken it straight to its top speed. The ship swayed dangerously, a hairsbreadth from capsizing. The deck pitched against the incoming tide. We left a sizeable wake behind us, rippling out and mingling with the tide.

I gripped the railing to keep from tumbling flat on my face. Then readjusted my stance to account for the roll and kept shooting, replacing my magazine with a fresh one. I fired off shots until the boat reached minimum safe distance. We were far enough away from land that their bullets couldn’t reach the yacht. If they had heavier artillery fire, we’d be at the bottom of the ocean. The firepower they had was insufficient to reach this distance.

I breathed a sharp sigh of relief when we reached open water. We made it. Against all odds, the yacht sailed away with everyone on board and accounted for, if a little banged up. Atop the cliff, flames leaped high, and smoke billowed from the house.

Gideon clapped me on the back. “Thanks for the assist.”

“Kylie’s down below. Her house is on fire. Should we tell her?” I worried what it would do to my Angel. She’d been battered, abused, threatened, and terrorized by Santos and his men.

Gideon ran a frustrated hand through his hair. His burden was heavier than the rest of us as our leader. I knew the mantle weighed on him.

“Not tonight. We’ll tell her in the morning. It might survive. What she needs is sleep and reassurance that she’s safe. I’m heading below deck for the med kit. While I patch up Chase, I need you captaining this thing.”

“I can do that.” Not that I was an expert like Chase, but I could handle the ship for a hot minute until Chase could take over. Gideon headed below, and I took the stairs ascending two levels up from the ground floor.

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