Page 119 of Undisputed Player
“Yeah, is Leo?—”
Gunshots.
Gunshots cracked through the alley.
So loud and close it felt like the air itself shattered. The first shot hit metal somewhere behind me, a shriek of ricochet that made me freeze. The second tore through the silence, and suddenly everything was chaos—security shouting, bodies moving in violent blurs, fear flooding my skin.
Time stretched like taffy, each second becoming an eternity of terror. I could see Sierra in the doorway, her face white with horror as security forced her further in. She was safe inside.
But I wasn’t.
“GET DOWN!” Mara’s voice cut through the chaos, but I felt frozen in place. My body had turned to stone, frozen in the crosshairs of nightmare. Three female security officers converged on me at once, their training overriding everything else. Hands grabbed me—rough, desperate, saving.
Another shot rang out, closer this time, the sound so sharp it made my stomach twist. I felt the heat of the bullet as it whined past my ear, close enough to move my hair. Close enough to kill.
The security team hauled me bodily toward the entrance, my feet barely touching the ground. My phone flew from my hand, clattering across the concrete, the screen cracking into a spider web.
The service door flew open wider as we reached it. Sierra wasbeing held down by Mara, her face a mask of terror as she watched them haul me across the threshold. The door slammed behind us with a sound like a coffin closing, the echo ringing in my ears like a death knell.
Inside, the world was suddenly too small, too loud. Sierra dropped beside me when Mara let her go, her hands shaking as she checked Toffee’s carrier, pulling the cat out and to her chest. My own chest was tight, my vision tunneling. I could still hear the shots, the ricochet, the chaos outside.
“Estelle. Hey. Look at me. You’re safe. You’re okay.” Her voice was gentle but firm, like she’d gotten through similar things before. Every sound—the crackle of radios, the slam of distant doors, the sharp voices of security personnel—made me flinch as if each was another gunshot.
"Breathe with me," Sierra said, her voice gaining strength even as her own fear showed in the fierce way she hugged Toffee to her chest. "In for four, hold for seven..." She matched her breaths to mine, grounding me, her own terror hidden behind eyes that had seen violence before.
Mara barked orders into her radio, her voice clipped and furious. “Shots fired, South entrance. VIPs secure.” The other security women pressed themselves against the door, weapons drawn, eyes focused on threats that might still be coming.
I tried to speak, but my voice cracked like broken glass. “Why—what was that?"
Sierra worked on gathering Toffee back into his carrier despite his mewls. “We’re okay. We’re okay.” But her own voice trembled, and I could see how nervous she was.
The minutes stretched, thick with fear. I kept seeing the flash of the gun. Someone had wanted me dead. Had tried to make me dead.
Then the door burst open.
Security flooded the hallway first, a wall of black tactical gear and drawn weapons. And behind them, Jax, Connor, and Adrian. They looked like something out of a fever dream with wild eyes andradiating violence. Death walked with them, it seemed to cling to their shoulders.
Jax's face was white as bone, his golden hair disheveled, his hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles had gone bloodless. The moment his eyes found me, something shattered in his expression—relief and rage and terror all crashing together.
He dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands shaking as they cupped my face. "Estelle. Princess, are you hurt? Are you—" His voice broke, raw and desperate, and I saw tears gathering in his eyes.
I shook my head, my own tears spilling over. "I'm okay. They got me inside. Mara and the others, they?—"
He pulled me into his arms, crushing me against his chest so hard I could barely breathe. I felt his whole body shudder, felt the way he pressed his face into my hair as if he needed to convince himself I was real. "You're safe," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I've got you. I've got you."
I never cried on anyone before. I was the shoulder when Giselle left us; I was always the one without tears. But now, I was crying my life out right into Jax’s designer shirt.
But beneath Jax’s tenderness, I could feel a rage so cold, so absolute, it made my blood icy. His hands were gentle on my skin, but the tension thrumming through his body was obvious, the promise of retribution coiled in every muscle.
A few feet away, Connor had Sierra in his arms, his massive frame dwarfing her as he held her. He didn't speak, just held her so tightly I wondered if she could breathe. His eyes burned with a cold, murderous fury that made the temperature in the hallway seem to drop ten degrees.
Adrian stood by the doorway, his energy channeled into something dangerous. His green eyes had gone flat, empty, like a shark's. He looked ready to tear someone apart with his bare hands, even as he held Toffee’s carrier carefully.
Security crowded us, their radios crackling, guns drawn, andvoices tense. Mara was already giving her statement, her voice steady, but her eyes kept flicking to me, as if making sure I was still breathing.
"Who?" The word came out of Connor like a growl, his voice barely recognizable as human.
"Unknown," Mara replied, her voice steady despite the chaos. “Two shooters. Professional setup. They knew exactly where we'd be."
