Page 6 of The Heart We Guard
All our weapons have silencers, but Zakharov’s security might not be as quiet when they spot us.
But either way, this all ends tonight.
I check my watch and hold up three fingers. Three minutes until this op is underway.
My heart beats steadily in my chest. I have no issue doling out punishment when it’s deserved. These men tried to take my daughter and ruin my club so they have it coming.
And my hands are steady when I pick the locks.
Then it’s all on Zimmer to work his magic with the alarm. He has a laptop and connects wires to the box as it beeps, man against machine. But it’s too late.
Shots ring out around the back of the house.
“Fuck the alarm,” I say to Zimmer. “They already know we’re here. Let’s find them.”
In our pre-arranged teams, I head into the opulent living room with Atom, Smoke, and Zimmer. Never ceases to amaze me the shit wealthy people buy with their cash. There’s a white ceramic statue of a Doberman that stands about four feet high.
Maybe if they’d spent some of that cash on the real thing, they wouldn’t be in a gunfight with a bunch of bikers right now.
Atom and Smoke break away from us and head into what looks like an office, but Zimmer and I head to the hallways on the other side of the room.
Gunfire and impact damage can be heard all around us. Now, my heart races as I worry about my men, praying they’re all safe. That I’m not going to have to take a body home to Raven, or Ember, or any of the old ladies.
The hallway is empty, but I can see a staircase that leads upstairs. I’m about to head toward it when someone opens fire from the other end of the hallway, preventing us from making progress.
“Better than a night in, washing my hair,” Zimmer says from over my shoulder.
I glance back at the bald fucker. “You’d have to have some hair for that.”
He chuckles. “Gonna hang around with you Colorado boys a little more often. You have more fun than we do.”
Across the hallway, I hear Atom shout the name Lev used as part of his disguise. I smile because knowing our enemy is in Atom’s sight means he’s surely a dead man.
At least we can hold off the men trying to get down the corridor to their boss. In between volleys, I flatten myself against the wall. Sucking in a breath, making it harder for enemies to see or reach me. As soon as I see the weapon poke around the corner, I start firing.
“You think you can cover me if I make a break for it?” I shout to Zimmer.
The scent of gunfire hangs heavy in the air, teasing my nose. I sneeze and miss the moment that one of Zakharov’s men steps into the hallway and opens fire.
I flail like a puppet on a string as two bullets hit me. One straight after the other.
And then nothing is within my control. I fall to my knees, then slump forward. A burning fire ignites in my abdomen, and my body convulses. I slide my hand along the hardwood floor to reach for the weapon I dropped.
Then things become fragmented.
Wraith standing over my body.
Smoke sliding to his knees next to me, his fingers on the pulse at my neck. The pulse I swear I can already feel ebbing.
The unholy jostle of Smoke lifting me over his shoulder in a fireman carry, and the violent agony that causes my vision to explode in stars.
The back of Smoke’s jeans starts to blur, as does the sidewalk.
I hear fragments of a discussion about keys and bikes and vans.
Smoke bundles me into the passenger seat, and I almost puke. Shock, pain, and blood loss all blend together as he removes my cut and rummages through my pockets.
And through it all, I know what he’s doing. Removing any trace of who I am. So, if I end up at a hospital for treatment, I can disappear again afterward.
