Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“I’m impressed as hell, London. You just killed the number two guy for the Santiago Cartel in the U.S., so job well done. But much as I respect your deadly instincts, I think we’ll all be safer if you hand that gun over.”
“I’m fine keeping it,” I said, narrowing my eyes to focus on his face. Damn. Why was everything moving so fast?
“Tell me right now how much ammunition you have left.”
“Why?”
“Because if you can’t answer the question, you got no business carrying that thing around.”
He made a good point.
I handed over the gun with the barrel pointed down carefully, startled by how hard it was to keep my balance. Then he was lifting me up and throwing me over his shoulder in a firefighter’s carry. He raced out the bathroom door, smoke surrounding us and the roar of guns growing louder. Something whacked my shoulder and my arm went numb.
“Loni!” Jess screamed behind me, and I raised my head to see Horse carrying her, dangling pants and all. Then I heard someone yell “Fuck!” really loud, followed by “Get the hell outta here!”
Reese pelted toward the end of the warehouse as the whole place seemed to burst into flames. Smoke burned my eyes, and I had no idea how he was getting enough air—I certainly wasn’t. Still, we barreled down the row of pallets like a herd of wild horses until I saw Puck waiting by the door we’d used to enter, waving at us frantically.
Then we were through it and out in the night air.
Reese tossed me into the back of a van and jumped on top of me, knocking the breath right out of my body. Horse and Jessica followed, and the vehicle took off, cargo doors swinging wide as we tore down the street. From my crumpled position on the floor, I saw a pillar of flame burst through the top of the warehouse roof. Then Horse caught hold of a tie-down mounted on the van’s wall and leaned out, grabbing the doors and slamming them shut.
There was a giant, roaring whoosh as something blew up, and the entire van rocked violently.
“People have got to stop blowing up buildings at me,” I muttered, trying not to giggle. Something was wrong here … Why wouldn’t my brain work? Felt like I was looking at everything through a film of honey. I tried to push Reese off, but my arm still wouldn’t work.
“I’ll look into it,” Reese muttered back at me.
“You do that.”
He pulled me close and squeezed me, which should’ve made me feel all warm and safe. Instead I didn’t feel anything at all. I knew I should be checking on Jessica, there was something important … but I was just so incredibly tired and weak.
I don’t remember anything after that.
The garbled noises that woke me sounded like someone speaking underwater.
This made sense, because I seemed to be floating. I just wasn’t quite sure how I was floating—or why—but I definitely wasn’t on solid ground.
Lovely …
“London?”
I tried to say “go away,” but it came out more like “gwo cay.”
Huh.
“London, can you hear me? Try and wake up, sweetheart.”
I shook my head, feeling a sharp twinge of pain. It cut through the floating sensation in a way I simply couldn’t approve of. I opened my eyes to try to find whoever was making my head hurt. Maybe if I bit them hard enough, they’d stop? But identifying the culprit wouldn’t be easy—apparently he’d filled my eyelids with sand, because they were all scratchy and dry.
“I’ve got news about Jess,” the voice said, catching my attention. Jessica. Memories started to come back. Oh, sheesh. We’d gone to California and I’d killed a man. But I’d found Jess—that part was important. Jessica was alive. Then another building had exploded. I blinked, trying to focus on the face above mine.
Reese.
“Hey,” I managed to croak out. “What happened?”
“You got shot in the arm and passed out,” he told me. I frowned. I didn’t remember getting shot. Shouldn’t I have noticed?
“How?”
“I’m assuming with a bullet,” he said, voice dry. I considered hitting him, but that would’ve involved raising my hand, which didn’t seem to be a realistic option at the moment.
“Why do I feel so weird?”
“Doc shot you up with painkillers. Probably a little more hard-core than you needed, but I didn’t want you hurting.”
Guess that explained the fog. I blinked some more, trying to clear it.
“What about Jess?” I finally managed to ask.
“She’s doin’ great,” Reese said. “They’ve done a CAT scan and the shunt is fine. Aside from the finger, the only other thing wrong with her is a little dehydration and some bruises. They want her to follow up with a plastic surgeon for the hand, but otherwise it’s all good. No sign of any seizures, either. She’s actually in a lot better shape than you—girl’s stronger than you thought.”