Page 148 of Wanted By a King

They are huddled on the floor, one holding a shotgun, but looking too terrified to use it.

“Is it loaded?” I call from where Zoe and I are huddled behind the drinks fridge.

The lady nods, and I take a quick glance out the window to see the Reapers reloading. It’s now or fucking never.

“Toss it to me.” I demand, and the woman nods, standing as I do, tossing the gun across the small space, where I catch it.

It’s a double barrel pump semi-automatic shotgun which makes my life a helluva lot easier, and I aim it at old Pops just as he raises his pistol. Not willing to wait and get fucking shot, I pump the shotgun, before squeezing the trigger.

The boom is loud, and Zoe squeals again, but my eyes are focused on Pops as he flies backward from the two rounds that just hit him square in the chest.

“Don’t do it!” Cash O’Malley hisses, fumbling with his gun, trying to get the clip into place. “Just give me the girl and I’ll let you live.”

I chuckle but there’s no humor in it. “You seem to forget I’m the one with the advantage here, O’Malley. How about you go crawling back to your Prez and tell him that if he ever tries to touch or hurt Zoe in any way, he will be wishing for his death before we’ve even had a chance to begin.” I pump the shotgun again and O’Malley freezes.

“Are you kidding?” he asks, backing up. “If I go back with three men dead and no Miller girl, I’m as good as dead.”

I shrug. “Not my fucking problem. You chose the wrong club, man. You are following the orders of a psychopath.”

He shakes his head, panic written across his face as he tries to make a decision.

And then he makes the wrong one by raising his gun.

The boom is loud, once again, not missing my mark as Cash O’Malley meets his death.

It takes a moment for my hearing to return to normal, the ringing in my ears a result of the gunfire. When it does, all I hear is sobbing from behind the counter, and by my feet.

I return the gun to the women, who look scared of me but still seem to know I’m not here to hurt them, and then I’m back over to where Zoe is huddled, lifting her in my arms as I carry her out of the deli.

She has a death grip on me as I carry her, cradling her head to my chest, not wanting her to see the bloody bodies as I step over them, and hurry to the side of the building.

There’s no time to comfort her right now. One look at my phone shows I have no cell service, and we need to get the fuck away from here before the cops show up. Or worse. More Reapers.

The closest place to go is Old Man Wilson’s property, which is a twenty-minute drive from here.

“Princess.” I rush out after lifting her into the truck and clipping the seatbelt on. “Look at me.”

She’s a mess. Sobbing, hardly able to speak. I think she’s in fucking shock.

“We have to go. We’ll head up to Old Man Wilson’s. We’ll be safe there, okay?”

She nods quickly, still sobbing and making no sense, but at least she understands me.

I get in the truck and drive us the hell away from there so fucking fast, not relaxing until we are about a mile from the Wilson estate driveway.

I pull over on the other side of a bridge, knowing that once we get near the estate, we will have to deal with more fucking guns until they are satisfied we are no threat.

Turning in my seat, I move closer to Zoe, running my hands over her to make sure she isn’t hurt before I move my attention to her face and wipe her tear-stained cheeks with my thumbs.

“Princess, I’m so sorry. If I knew they would be up this way, I would never have brought you.”

Her blue eyes lock with mine even as her whole body trembles.

“Are you hurt?” I ask, and slowly, she shakes her head, but then nods, and then shrugs.

I look over her again, my hands frantic in case I missed a bullet wound, but all I find is a few scratches. Nothing too serious.

“Fuck, Zoe.” I rasp, emotion thick on my voice and I press my forehead to hers. “I would never let anyone hurt you. You know that right?”

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