Page 73 of Brother In Arms

“How you doing, baby?” I asked softly.

“Good,” she moaned, head lolling languidly on her neck to look at me.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute.”

“Oh no, no, you take your time.” She was floatin’ and I smiled, putting my hand under her shirt to caress her ribs. She closed her eyes and shivered at the little touch. I waited patiently until she went to sit up, then I helped her.

“That was hot,” she said and I laughed.

“What can I say? I like my dessert first.”

“Mm,” she gestured and I bent down to kiss her. She kissed me back and it was beautiful.

“I love you,” she whispered uncertainly against my mouth and it was music to my ears.

“I love you, too, babe.”

I considered her, sitting there, sex tousled, her eyes dilated with afterglow and lips swollen from my kiss and pulled off my tee. I helped her out of her blouse, little tank top thing, and bra and slid my shirt over her head.

“Sit right there, I’ll get plates.”

She nodded, swinging her feet a little and I brought over plates and the little bleach disinfecting wipes from under the sink to clean up. It was a good way to spend our evening. I had no complaints.

A long shower together to relax us both the rest of the way, and for once I was too tired to even try to get mine. We fell into bed and were both out like a traffic light inside two seconds. I think that’s why it took so long for me to come to. To realize something was even wrong. Bailey was shaking me, and the room was illuminated by the orange glow of fire.

I sat up, just as the next bottle crashed against the front of the house, and just like in the fuckin’ movies, it went up with a ‘fwoosh’ sound that was just fucking unbelievable. I leapt out of bed, Bailey already up and pulling on my discarded shirt, grabbing up her phone. I pulled on my pants and grabbed my gun off the nightstand. I looked around for a half a second, still a bit disoriented from sleep, and grabbed my cut off the wingback chair, swinging it on over my bare chest.

“Come on, let’s go!”

I grabbed her hand and we bolted out of the room for the front door. Flames were already licking on the other side of the glass window set high into it, so we turned tail and bolted for the back door, just as what looked like a flaming mason jar crashed through the fucking back window. It shattered on the hardwood and the flames lit up the inside of the house, effectively blocking our escape, the fire leaping up, the heat and adrenaline already having me break out in a sweat.

“The barn!” Bailey choked out between coughs and we ran for the door that adjoined the house to the smaller barn. I put my cut between my hand and the knob and gave it a twist, not knowing what to expect and hoping like hell it wasn’t on fucking fire out here too. My eyes watered and stung from the smoke pouring through the house. A mix of campfire and burning plastic assaulting my nose, overwhelming in its intensity.

I pulled open the door and nothing, smoke poured into the barn from the open door behind us, but it wasn’t on fire in here… yet.

“Get in the truck,” I ordered and Bailey went for the driver’s seat, already on her phone, talking fast, almost too fast, having to stop and repeat herself to the emergency operator on the other side. We’d parked one of the farm trucks in here, backing it in in case of emergency. I think this more than qualified.

“Yes, I already said that, we’re trapped inside!” Bailey cried into the phone and I went to the barn doors and unbolted them, just as the sound of breaking glass hit the other side. Again with that sound of flame catching on accelerant. I shook my head and went back to the truck and got in on the passenger side.

“Punch it, go through it; don’t stop, Bailey.”

She cried, aghast. “What!?”

“It’s on fire, now go through it!”

She pulled down on the shifter, putting the automatic in drive and popped the emergency brake.

“God, I hope this works!” she cried and romped on the gas. I hoped so too, the barn doors opened out, so it was a fair chance we’d make it out just fine but not so much if these assholes started shooting at us.

We hit the doors and they crashed outwards, the truck lumbering through and out into the night. A pop and a ping, and fuck me swinging, they were shooting at us.

“Just keep going, baby! Don’t stop!”

Bailey ducked low over the steering wheel and cried out when there was a loud explosion, the truck swerved in the gravel and she fought the wheel. They’d hit a tire, fuck…

“Ride it on the rim!” I cried, “Don’t stop!” The back window shattered and I turned around in my seat, knocking it out. The house and barn were in flames, and I mean roaring total loss flames. I finished knocking out a bigger hole in the back window’s safety glass and couldn’t see anything to shoot at but returned fire anyways, popping off two rounds, hoping the motherfuckers would dive for cover.

Bailey kept going, in the initial chaos, while we could still breathe, she’d called fire and rescue. Who the fuck knew if they would get here in time to mitigate any damage to the house and honestly, who the fuck cared? I was more concerned with keeping us alive long enough for the cavalry to arrive, be it fire and rescue or my brothers.

Another pop, and the driver’s side window, Bailey’s window, shattered, a bullet hole punching through the windshield. She screamed, overcorrected and we went into a skid on the gravel drive. I flung out an arm to pin her back against the seat as the truck careened into the ditch off the side of the driveway and went right into the goddamn split log fence of the second paddock. I pulled Bailey across the bench seat, toward me, the truck was leaning pretty heavy to my side and at an angle, providing some decent cover if we could get out and use it to our advantage. I needed to get Bailey to cover before something happened to her.

She slid out of the truck and into my arms and I ducked down, looking for our assailants. They were good, pro’s if I had to guess. Sirens were wailing in the distance and I peeked over the bed of the truck. Lights were flashing out on the highway, still a good distance from the mouth of the driveway. A shot rang out and I ducked. It pinged off the side of the truck and Bailey screamed, huddling in a tight ball against the back tire. I popped up and returned fire, but I still couldn’t see what the fuck I was supposed to be shooting at.

I pulled Bailey into my arms and held her as the sirens drew nearer and the hidden threat melted back further into the dark. I pressed the gun into Bailey’s hands and said, “My brother, Nox, lent this to you because of the threats. You got it?”

She nodded dumbly and I pressed her close, holding onto her tight as gravel pinged the other side of the truck, the fire truck lumbering past to set up and start working on the blaze. We were saved, after a fashion, but the motherfuckers that’d done this? They best be afraid. I was coming for them, and I was bringing hell with me.

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