Page 106 of Triple Power Play 3
They continue to argue, but something off in the distance grabs my attention.
Branches breaking.
Sticks snapping underfoot.
“Shh!” I place a finger to my lips.
The three of us freeze, listening. The next sound is all too familiar, one that haunts my nightmares, and, knowing the target, I jump before either of them flinches.
On impulse, my hand goes to my hip, but I’m unarmed.
No gun. No vest.
Although I brace myself, conscious of what’s coming, the bullet still steals my breath and knocks me into Jackson.
47
JACKSON
A gunshot splinters through the trees, and I jolt. Reece crashes into me. My knees give out, and the air whooshes from my lungs. I stumble back and catch him under the arms.
He fights to get to his feet.“Fuck,” he grunts, the word fragmented and filled with agony.
It all happens so fast, a blur of confusion.
Another gunshot. Terror paralyzes me.
Someone is running—the snapping of twigs and branches echoes through the woods. Are they coming toward us or away? Are there more than one? Two?I’m confident I hear two distinct paces.
There’s a pull on my shirt, and Ethan yells, “Move! Move!”
Reece clutches his chest and scrambles to stand. He shields me, putting himself between me and the woods, and crowds me into the garage.
Why? Wouldn’t he be happier if I were dead?
I hammer the button to close the overhead door and follow Ethan’s lead to the right, where the walls are lined with shelves, boxes, and totes.
He helps Reece to the floor, yanks his shirt over his head, and presses it to where blood has soaked through Reece’s. Behind me, the garage door slams shut with a shudder. The motor cuts off, and there’s only the sound of our heavy breaths.
Dazed, I hover over them and rake my fingers through my hair, tugging the strands.
This is a nightmare. It has to be a nightmare.
My heart thunders in my rib cage, its relentless beat muddling Reece and Ethan’s hurried words.
Reece is against calling 911. It’s not safe to involve the LAPD. We have to wait for backup. Ethan’s worried we don’t have enough time.
This isn’t real. It can’t be.
I shake my head, trying to dispel the disbelief, only to realize:Reece stepped in front of a bullet for me—for Aurora.
He’d rather risk death and have me around than have her be sad. If that’s not love, then I don’t know what the fuck is.
“I’m activating my comm.” He fights to remove his dog tags from his shirt with a trembling hand. “OIS. Code 30,” he rasps, then rattles off the address.
His dog tags are his communicator? His wire? My gaze snags on the dark-red blood covering his fingers. Panic rises and pushes away the shock, and my breaths become rapid and shallow.
“Don’t you dare fucking die!” My throat hurts, strained with emotion, and I pace. “Aurora will never forgive me if I injure one of you and the other dies taking a bullet for me.” My stinging eyes search for any weapon, landing on a baseball bat. I’m going to kill any motherfucker I get my hands on. “You always gotta show me up, don’t you? Both of you. I can’t compete with a baby and a fucking bullet to the chest.”
