Page 104 of Arranged Addiction
“I know. I got this.” He tries to grin at me, but it comes off more like a grimace.
“In position,” Seamus says through my earpiece. “You ready, boss?”
I touch the transmitter. “Ready to move. You hit on my mark.”
“What’s your mark?”
I approach the front door and plant my boot right next to the handle. It splinters inward, cracking nearly in half. “Got it?”
“Heard that.”
There are several loud bangs as Seamus lights off mild explosives, breaking the locked rear entrance. I storm forward, practically shoving Rory ahead. We enter into the lobby of a pizza place, nothing fancy, not even all that clean. Empty boxes are stacked on a table, the chairs are flipped upside down, and the floors smell like solvent. The oven’s cool and the prep area is empty.
“This way.” Rory hurries toward a door down the back hallway. Light spills out from underneath. “They’re always in here, but they must’ve heard?—”
A small canister rolls out from a black doorway up ahead. I stare at it and have a half second to react. “Get?—”
Light and sound so bright and loud explode into my head. I stagger away, cursing and waving my hands. A fucking flashbang grenade.
I throw myself to the floor about a second before the gunfire erupts.
Rory screams. I roll blindly. Something wet and warm hits me. I hear more shouting and more gunfire, deafening in the small space.
They were fucking waiting for us!
My eyes start to clear. My head’s ringing like a bell, but at least I can see where they’re hitting us from. I shoot back, not aiming all that well. I’m covered by half the counter and a body.
Rory’s bloody, bullet-riddled corpse.
I don’t know if he was aware of this ambush, but I don’t have time to worry. I keep shooting as one of the Whelan soldiers I brought with me falls to one knee. His vest is studded with hits and he’s bleeding from a wound to his shoulder. The other is kneeling behind a flipped table. Their helmet saved them and likely dampened the blast. That’s the only reason I’m still alive—they reacted fast enough.
Good old Seamus and his military gear. At least it’s good for something.
I force myself to move. I can’t stay here on the floor. I roll again and keep shooting, forcing our attackers back. By now, Seamus is inside, and he’s likely pinned down himself. I hear more fighting and screaming, but it’s hard to say the direction.
Someone moves out of cover. I shoot them in the knees, taking them down. A man topples to the floor, screaming. The linoleum is slick with blood as I scramble up and dive over the counter. Pizza boxes explode all around me, but I make it safe enough.
Using the counter as cover, I march closer and return fire. Our attackers probably thought we’d be dead by now, but Seamus’s men are well trained and I’m not giving up. I keep shooting and prepare to jump over again and charge, but a shape attacks me from the side.
I have a second to jerk backwards as a knife slices through the air. It catches my shoulder instead of my throat as I spin back, growling in pain.
Donnell grins at me, raising a gun at my heart. “You made this too fucking easy.”
He pulls the trigger.
The bullet slams into my vest like a hammer against my ribs. I topple backwards in pure agony, trying to raise my own gun to defend myself, but my limbs are completely numb and useless. Donnell curses as he ejects his magazine and goes to shove another into the slot?—
Only for Seamus and his men to come bursting in through the back.
I roll wildly as Donnell takes another shot. It misses my head by inches and bursts open a can of tomatoes instead. Sticky red drenches the floor. Donnell shouts something and throws himself sideways over the barrier as I drag myself to my feet.
Seamus’s men storm the area. The two soldiers I had come in with me are both down and bleeding. I roar in defiance and agony as I throw myself over the barrier after Donnell, the old man stumbling and running as hard as he can, slipping on the spilled tomatoes and screaming in fear.
I reach him before he can escape. His neck feels like clay when I grab and squeeze. I slam him down as Seamus and his men cover me from behind, clearing out the remaining attackers and defusing the ambush.
Donnell hits the floor hard and gags. He stares at me, eyes bulging, tongue lolling. “Don’t,” he rasps out. “You can’t.”
“I can and I fucking should.” I dig my fingers into his windpipe. Blood wells up under my nails as I scratch into his papery skin. “I want to break you so fucking bad.”
