Page 42 of Gatling
“He’s—he’s lying—” I slurred.
Olson pulled something from his pocket and held it out in Macy’s direction. Something small and dark. A…pistol?
No.
A can of pepper spray.
Macy backed up, alarmed.
Then the rumble of a motorcycle engine ripped through the morning air. Ryker barrelled into the parking lot at full speed, skidding to a stop.
“Get away from her,” he growled.
He’s here,I thought with relief.He’s finally here and I’m safe. Everything will be okay—
Ryker climbed off his bike, marching toward us.
Olson turned the pepper spray on him and released a fiery cloud, directly into his face. Ryker gagged and choked, but he continued plowing forward. Relentless. Unstoppable.
Olson hauled me backward, retreating in the face of Ryker’s onslaught. He emptied the pepper spray into Ryker’s eyes.
Ryker kept coming.
I was fading fast. My head felt like a bowling ball, heavy and unwieldy, lolling forward. But I kicked and thrashed with the last of my fading strength. Maybe I could dislodge the pepper spray. Or distract Olson to give Ryker a fighting chance.
“Fucking coward!” Ryker bellowed. “I’ll kill you for putting your fucking hands on her.”
Everything was a blur now. Just indistinct blobs of color—the blanket of white snow, the stretch of black pavement, Ryker’sswollen, blotchy face. He was nearly frothing at the mouth with pepper burns, and his eyes streamed with tears.
Olson barked a laugh. He tossed the now empty can aside. A moment later, I felt the sharp edge of a blade pressed to my throat. When I swallowed, the knife bit into my jugular.
“Me?” he said, incredulous. “I’mthe coward? You’re the one groping your best friend’s little sister behind his back. If anyone is a coward here, it’s you.”
Ryker roared with so much rage that he was shaking with it.
“If you want her, come and fight me for her. Man to man.”
Olson snorted.
“Look at you. You’re supposed to be some elite soldier. A skilled hunter. A deadly marksman. But a stiff breeze would knock you over right now.”
As Olson continued pulling me backward, Ryker closed the gap between us. He was in no condition to fight though. Every breath was a struggle that clearly pained him, wheezing, strained. All that pepper spray probably inflamed his airways.
Olson stroked my hair with his clammy palm.
“Don’t worry,” he crooned. “I won’t hurt her. We’re soulmates. We’re meant to be together.” His voice rose as he spoke, reaching a hysterical pitch. “You’re nothing to her. Do you hear me? Nothing. Just a backwoods hick. A fucking trained ape.”
Ryker lunged.
His fist collided with Olson’s face. I twisted away blindly, hitting the cold pavement. My throat burned and my body felt like I was crawling through a vat of molasses.
The baby,I thought. Sick with worry.What if I lose her? Dear God, I hope she’s okay.
Behind me, Ryker and Olson grappled for control. A sob clogged in my throat. I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t—
A spray of blood stained the snow. Ryker lurched backward, cradling his stomach. A six-inch gash arced across his torso, from hip to ribs.
“Stay away!” Olson screeched, waving the knife at Ryker.
