Page 237 of American Hellhound
“Stop it? Like you aren’t trying to push my club out with your own?”
Badger grinned, manic, unhinged. “Yeah, well, Iamthe one with the hostage–”
The crack of a gunshot echoed across the parking lot. Just as it registered, Ghost heard a familiar pulpythump.
The big man holding a gun on Alec tipped forward, boneless, and fell face-down on the asphalt like a tree, the side of his head blown out, watermelon-red.
A sniper.
There was a goddamn sniper.
Someone with training. Someone who’d cost Badger a hundred grand.
In the fraction of a second it took for the man to fall, Ghost made a snap decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret later. He hoped Reese was on their side, and that he would lay down cover. Heneededhim to, at this point.
Silence rang for one beat in the wake of the shot, everyone stunned. And then pandemonium.
Ghost dove for Alec, grabbed him by the front of the shirt and dragged him to the ground, shielding him with his own body. “Stay down.” He put a hand on top of his head; he’d fold him up and put him in his pocket if he could. He couldn’t stomach bystander casualties right now.
He cast a wild glance over his shoulder as more shots cracked across the lot. Some of the Saints had their guns drawn, but most were ducking behind vans and running for cover.
Ghost spotted Mercy at his back, firing at the corner of a van, providing cover.
He also spotted Badger making a break for it around the side of the building.
“Merc! Get Alec inside.” He was going after Badger himself.
~*~
Maggie shifted in her chair and tried to hide a wince. She’d pumped that morning, so Ava had bottles for Ash, but she was starting to feel full and tender. Whatever Ghost and the boys were doing, she hoped they got things wrapped up soon, or an armed escort was going to have to bring Ash to her.
As the minutes ticked by, Denise became more nervous, and therefore more short-tempered. She was pacing now, fanning her face with a heart surgery pamphlet. “Honestly, Margaret, this security detail business is ridiculous. Why don’t you send these clowns home?”
“No offense,” Maggie said to Harry and Roman. Both of them shrugged. “Mom, why don’t you let Harry go get you some coffee?” Secretly, she thought caffeine would only make things worse, but Denise couldn’t berate them all while she was drinking.
“I already told you, I–”
A loud crack of sound echoed from down the hall. Muffled by doors and walls, but nonetheless distinctive.
It sounded again. And then again.
Gunshots.
Maggie traded quick glances with Harry, Roman, and Kristin, all of them snapping to immediate attention. Kristin’s eyes widened and flooded with fear.
Maggie’s heart jumped up into her throat and she tried to swallow it back down. Panicking solved nothing.
The sound of screams reached them, uneven and faint.
Harry pulled his .45. “Time to go.”
“Yeah.” Maggie stood and reached into her purse to check her own gun.Guns– plural.
“What?” Denise asked, head whipping left and right. “What’s going on?” Color draining out of her face, hands shaking.
Maggie took her arm in a firm grip. “Mom, we have to go.”
“Go? What? We can’t leave your father? What are you talking about?”
