Page 78 of Hostile Love
Peering up through the gap, I catch a glimpse of her.
My heart pounds from the thrill of the chase, flight after flight. While she effortlessly slips into her professional persona and treads each step at speed, laser focused on the mission, I’m eyeing up her ass.
It’s perfectly round and edible in those tight leather pants she decided to wear today. She must have expected a long day tailing me on her motorbike.
I take the wide stairs two at a time, intermittently checking over my shoulder to make sure we’re not being followed. There’s every chance the fucker who set off the alarm brought friends.
Just to confirm my suspicion, a burst of gunfire ahead of me steals my breath. I push on faster, my gun drawn and aimed into the dark corners.
Turning left, there’s a dead guy wearing a tactical vest slumped under the third-floor sign. I smile inwardly and jump over him, forever impressed by my little firecracker’s no-nonsense skills.
Behind me, the sound of heavy footfall drifts upwards. I peer over the banister where two armed men are following us in hot pursuit. I’m not exactly covert with a bright white shirt on, which would make me easy to spot.
Doesn’t matter. I won’t give either of them a chance to reach Dani, even if I’m outnumbered.
While they get closer, I back up onto the rectangle landing and press my spine into the wall, ready to shoot.
Eventually they come into full view with their sub-machine guns pointed right at me. I slow down my breathing, aim at the closest fucker, and pull the trigger.
At the same time, another bullet rips through the air and both men drop.
A tingle of awareness hits me. My gaze cuts to the upper flight, where Dani’s gun still points downward. The whites of her eyes glow as she waits a moment to check that both men are dead.
I don’t say a word. Neither of us does, but I silently make a promise that she’d never regret falling in love with me.
Content the lifeless fuckers before me are worm food, I shove my firearm in the waistband of my dress pants and steal their machine guns, slinging the straps over my shoulders.
I’d be all out of bullets at this rate. So, the more ammunition I have, the better chance of our survival.
On the move again, I continue to track my little firecracker up the winding stairs, all the while staying on high alert.
My heart leaps when muttered male voices fill the hollowness, the sound filtering downwards.
Hunkered low, I shuffle around the bend, aligned with the railing, and gaze up the stairs where Dani stands rooted in place on the next landing, held at gunpoint.
A handful of armed men have appeared through the lobby door and have her surrounded. My lungs tighten. A violent surge of overprotectiveness and chaos hisses through my veins from my head to my toes.
I dig deep and take a steadying breath before my temper turns feral.
These guys haven’t noticed me yet and they sure as fuck don’t realize they’re too close to the wrong woman. Not because she’s a trained killer—because she’smine.
Sticking close to the metal bars, I climb a few more steps, take up position, and shout, “Get down, Buffy.”
Instantly, she obeys, giving me a clean sweep to let off a few rounds. While I spray bullets from one side to the other, she crawls to the wall and puts her back against it, expertly firing at a few guys who hadn’t been hit yet.
The massacre plays out in slow motion. My muscles brace, absorbing the machine gun kick back and my heart pumping wild.
As I continue upwards, more soldiers spill into the stairwell from above, their heavy footfall echoing up the stairwell. Finally on the same level as Dani, her gaze follows mine, both of us knowing it’s only the two of us against way too many.
Our eyes connect briefly. The depth of her silver gaze, fierce and protective, matching the emotions knotted inside of me too.
I take a deep breath, step in front of her and continue to empty the machine gun. Simultaneously, she maneuvers herself around me and bumps her rigid shoulders into my spine.
Back-to-back, we work as a team. Dani targets the men behind me, and I shoot up the fuckers behind her. Together we’re solid. Both of us determined to shield the other.
Once my side is clear, I do a one-eighty and stare at the fallen soldiers littering the stairs, completely unfazed.
Bodies are everywhere and blood spatters on the walls like radical artwork. It’s carnage. And the supercharged buzz I get when her silver eyes find mine, it’s electric.
