Page 73 of Trapped Truth

It’s a distant shot across the pool. Luckily, I was taught by the best. My first bullet sinks into the thug looming over Blaine, taking out a kneecap. Enough of a distraction for Blaine to gather some strength and launch his own attack.

Our team leader’s captor watches the scene unfold. For a petrifying second, his finger hovers over the trigger, a breath from reacting. But I’m faster.

“Warner!”

He doesn’t rouse to witness the success of my well-placed shot. Blood spurts from the guy’s shoulder, disabling his shooting arm and causing him to yowl louder than a banshee.

There’s no time to follow the sounds of commotion behind me where Hyland’s temper has exploded, razing his way through the ranks to reach our teammates. Joe and I have unfinished business.

“You bitch,” he wheezes, cowering below me.

“I’ve been called a lot worse.”

Booting him with all the pent-up rage I can channel, something cracks against my leather-coated foot. Once. Twice. Three brutal hits.

And little old Joe wails his head off.

Checkmate.

My steel-capped boots stomp on his ugly face next, causing blood to erupt in a magnificent discharge of lava. The wet sounds spewing from his mouth are music to my ears. As he writhes in a helpless puddle, I holster the gun then plant my rubber sole on his throat.

“Tell me again how stupid we are,” I mock in his idiotic voice. “Go on. Say it.”

All the pathetic worm can do is hiss and wheeze, blood spilling from his nose down to his open mouth. Damn, those gurgles are disgusting.

Not even his hands clawing at my foot have enough force to deter the crushing weight on his windpipe. Eyes bulge. Nostrils flare. Blood spits and bubbles. I watch his face turn purple then slacken, second by second.

“Thanks for your time, Joe. We’ll be sure to return your body to your employer.”

“H-H-H-H…”

“What was that? Something to say?”

Only spit and gore respond.

“Hm, I didn’t think so.”

The satisfaction of watching his eyes grow dim is interrupted by a solid weight slamming into my side. I’m flung into the air, my spine crashing into the floor where the impact shakes my teeth.

What feels like a pile of bricks weighs me down. Only the bricks are encased in skin, clothing and a damned fabric mask. Using momentum to carry us over the tiles, our bodies roll in a rapid-moving spiral.

A fist attempts to pummel my ribcage but only manages to bounce off the protective layer under my clothes. My hips jackknife upward. The blood boiling inside of me grows even hotter when I can’t toss this bastard off; he weighs a goddamn tonne.

The next punch rockets into the side of my face, nearly blinding me. In desperation, I seize the mask concealing my attacker and yank, revealing stubbled skin just begging to be scratched.

Hot, sticky blood wells under my nails when I rake them over the dead weight pinning me. He howls in anger, throwing another flailing hit that catches me under my jaw. Dizziness washes in faster than the rising tide.

BANG.

In an instant, the scene changes.

BANG. BANG.

On top of me, a shower of blood and bone slices through the small space between us. Under deep nail scratches, lips fall open and pupils blow wide. The fourth bullet tears straight through the side of his neck to splatter my face in stickiness.

In sheer shock, I gasp for air. “Oh, God.”

Without being able to hold them upright, the asshole’s limbs slide to his sides. Giving the lifeless body a shove, I wrestle my way to freedom, letting my attacker’s corpse slump to my right.