Page 50 of Keeping My Girl

I hold up my fingers, counting down silently to my team.

Three…

Two…

One…

And after that, Miner kicks in the door and pushes through as he makes his way into the abandoned hospital.

The breach didn’t seem to trigger any alarms, and we move silently through the dark hallway towards a light source and faint voices.

The closer we get, the louder the cries and voices grow.

“Please!” a woman calls out before I hear something that sounds like a fist hitting flesh.

The loud, tortured cry that follows the hit has my feet moving faster. The group moves with me fluidly like we’re one entity. Our footsteps are silent. Our breathing is steady and slow.

When we reach the end of the hall, there is a large open room that looks like it used to be a waiting room. From our point of view, we can see two guards surrounding six women, who are tied to various chairs in the room. One of the guards is currently assaulting one of the girls, who is crying hysterically.

And when he raises his hand to strike her again, I take the shot without even second-guessing my decision.

The man’s hand explodes in mid-air, and he screams out in agony. He reaches for a gun with his other hand, but it’s too late. Miner is already on him, tackling him down to the ground.

My men take out the other man before he even has a chance to react. Two of them haul him outside, getting him away from the women.

“We need bolt cutters,” Miner urgently requests from one of our men, who is carrying a backpack of tools. We didn’t know what we would need, so we packed all the essentials.

When Samson hands Miner the bolt cutters, he begins working on the chains around one of the women who is bound to a chair near him.

The man whose hand was blown off begins to bellow in distress from the corner of the room. “Shut him the fuck up,” I tell Samson, who in turns drives the butt of his gun into the man’s face, effectively knocking him out cold.

The only sounds filtering through the room now are some muted cries from the women and the chains rattling as they’re unceremoniously cut off. We work on freeing three of the women who look to be in bad shape, much worse than the others. Several of us carefully carry them out to an awaiting van while the others are left in the room momentarily.

Once the three women are safely in the van, Miner offers, “I’ll go back in and secure the rest of the women.”

I give him a nod. “I’ll be there in a minute. Be careful,” I tell him.

“Always,” he says to me before disappearing into the dark building.

I’m sending a status update to Aldo on my phone when loud cackling from my right catches my attention. One of the men we captured is grinning and laughing, almost in full hysterics now as one of my guards searches his pants pockets.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” I growl at him, taking a few steps closer.

That’s when I see the man raise his hand. I only have a split second to react when I see the detonator tightly grasped in his palm. “Miner!” I scream, but it’s too late.

There is a faint beeping sound before the entire building trembles and explodes, erupting into smoke and fire. The blast hits me, knocking me off my feet and throwing me into the side of the van where the women are. I vaguely hear their terrified screams as I fall to my hands and knees, the wind knocked out of my lungs.

Quickly, I try to recover and gather my wits. Glancing over at my men, I see that all of them are lying on the ground, but they all seem to be alive. My head is still spinning as I stand, and I quickly assess my body for damage. When I find no visible wounds, I run into the rubble that used to be the hospital. “Miner!” I call out, hoping to hear a response.

Someone follows behind me with a flashlight, the beam of light reflecting off the carnage. The three women are dead, their lifeless bodies covered in blood.

“Fuck,” I grind out.

I hear someone grunting in pain, and I turn to see Miner under some rubble, his legs pinned and his chest moving in a weird rhythm as he stares up at the ceiling with wide eyes.

Kneeling down by his side, he reaches out for me, and I grip his hand in mine, holding it tightly. “You’re gonna be okay,” I grind out, but even I know his chances of leaving this place are not good.

His breathing is ragged and panicked. I can see fear in his eyes for the first time ever. He was always so damn strong and confident. His brown eyes slowly find my face and momentarily focus. “Take care…of my mom,” he tells me as blood trickles from his mouth.

---