Page 78 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
We hit the floor before the first shot is fired, but the rat-tat-tat of bullets follows seconds later. Glass shatters, raining down on us. It’s so loud, like sitting right beside the band at a football game. Each bullet that strikes is punctuated by a loud thwack, the sound reverberating over my skin in a tangible wave of terror. Avi stares at me, eyes round with fear. I glance around, deciding that getting to the back of the house is the safest option.
“We have to crawl,” I say, starting to head across the floor. I avoid the glass on the ground but there’s no reprieve. If anything, the bullets come faster, or maybe that’s my heart that’s beating so loud it sounds like gunfire. I glance back to check on Avi, but he’s still in the same spot, eyes closed as he shakes his head back and forth.
“Avi.”
He doesn’t look at me. His jaw works, and he gasps for air, like he’s choking. I get on all fours and crawl to him, shaking his shoulder.
“Avi.”
Jerking away from me, he scrambles back with a strangled cry and presses his palms into his eyes. Sunlight streaks through the bullet holes in the wall above his head. We don’t have time for this.
I need a weapon.
The shooting stops.
“Whitney,” Curtis hollers, sounding like the demonic version of my mother when she’s pissed. “Come out here.”
Fuck.
“Avi,” I whisper, gently touching his shoulder. “We have to go.”
“No. No. NO,” he says, each no louder than the last.
My heart aches for him, but if he’s not going to help me, I need to figure things out and fast. Curtis will only wait so long before he starts shooting again, and Avi is in the line of fire. I tug Avi to the floor, forcing him to curl up on his side near the dining room table.
“Avi,” I try again, smoothing his black hair away from his eyes when he opens them, but he doesn’t see me.
His gaze flicks around the room, his breathing frantic and panicked.
“You’re okay. I need a gun.”
His chest starts to rise and fall faster as a full-on panic attack takes over, rendering him helpless. I hate to leave him, but I have to find something to fight these guys off. I’m not going back with Curtis. I’ll let him shoot me before that happens. Making a split-second decision, I hop to my feet and crouch as I run toward Hayden’s room.
Bullets follow after me. My heart jumps into my throat and my fingers tremble as I reach for his closet door. I shove at clothes and uniforms and shoes, finding nothing to help. Whirling around, I scan the room.
The bed.
I dive to my knees, reaching under and grasping for something. Anything to help. Adrenaline surges through me when Curtis calls my name again, taunting me. He sounds closer. I pray Avi stayed on the floor. If he gets up, Curtis will shoot him. My fingers grasp at a cool metal double barrel, and I almost cry in relief, snatching it from under the bed.
A shotgun.
Not as useful as a semi, but it’ll do. I break it open. Empty. Fuck. I reach back under the bed with both hands and find a small box, ripping it open and loading two shells into the gun. I snap it closed, holding the barrel up and shoving extra shells into my pocket.
Peeking down the hall, I hold the gun close to my body and take a steadying breath. The gunshots have stopped, and I can’t see Avi. I hear him though, breathing heavily like he’s in pain. I drop to my knees and shuffle forward until I can see past the kitchen cabinets. Avi’s still on the floor, lost to a memory. He’s openly weeping now, but I don’t have time to help him.
Curtis and his men climb onto the porch, their forms blocking the late afternoon sun. I press against the wall and point the barrel at the door and take the safety off. Everything slows down and the door handle twists, painfully slow. Then it twists again and again. It’s locked.
Curtis kicks the door. My lungs seize, and I forget how to breathe. Blood rushes to my ears and the wood thuds again, cracking with the force of the strike. Avi sobs, but luckily the men outside can’t hear him over the racket Curtis is making. I look down the barrel at the door, forcing air into my body and steadying my hands. When the door finally breaks and swings wide, I fire without thinking twice.
“There you—” Curtis’ words are cut off by the shot. He clutches his stomach and stumbles slightly, snarling. “Fucking bitch.”
One of his men steps up to catch him, so I shift the gun slightly, breathing out and pulling the other trigger. The shot hits him in the shoulder. His body spins back and the hand he had extended toward Curtis pulls the alpha back with him. I don’t watch them fall. I lower the gun and break it open, reaching into my pocket for more ammo. The shells drop over the floor.
A body crashes into me, knocking me back. My head cracks against the floor, and the gun flies out of my hands, clattering across the floor. Stars burst across my vision, and I gasp for air, wheezing as the guy comes down on top of me, grasping for my arms.
I wrench them away and scream, gouging Curtis’ man with my nails and thrashing against him. Desperately trying to buck him off to no avail.
“Stupid cunt,” he growls, bouncing on me.
