Page 103 of Deadfall

Oh god—that wasn’t good.

I didn’t need to be falling for whatever fucking games these men were playing.

And then there was Mr. Three Musketeers. I looked over my shoulder at Seven. He also had his gun ready as he watched our backs and everything else. There was a grim look on his face until he caught my eye and winked. There was a playfulness that appeared at the flip of a switch that was jarring but familiar. It reminded me a little of Hangman—a bright spot in an otherwise unsafe environment—and every time Seven gave me a lopsided smile or I saw the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, I felt a pang of nostalgia. I quickly turned back to the front. I didn’t need to get attached to these men.

Absolutely not.

Gunfire cut through the mist and Seven didn’t hesitate—he yanked me back against him and turned away. The sound of his gun was loud as he returned fire. Angel yelled at Griffin to give him his gun back as we retreated around a corner of the hedge.

“You’re going to need to trust me,” Angel said.

“I don’t have to do shit,” Griffin growled.

Griffin leaned around the edge and returned fire. He pulled back and checked his mag. When his jaw clenched, I knew he was running low. They all had to be at this point. He looked at Seven who cussed eloquently. Apparently they could read each other’s minds or something.

“Absolutely not, G,” he said firmly.

“Take her and find a different route,” Griffin said.

“No, we’re not splitting up,” Seven said sullenly.

“You winning is as good as me winning, you know this,” Griffin insisted.

What the fuck was happening?

I looked back and forth between them, then realized I was still looped in Seven’s arm with my back pressed against his chest. His displeasure rumbled through me and sent a shiver straight down my spine. I eased out from under his grasp, ignoring the loss of heat and how good it had felt to just be in his arms—ugh, what was wrong with me? Had that explosion rattled my brains?

“Go. Angel and I will take care of this group and follow your trail,” Griffin said.

Seven growled but obeyed. He took ahold of my arm and we disappeared around a corner.

“Is he like your boss or something?” I asked.

Seven glanced at me briefly. “Or something.”

“That’s cute,” I scrunched up my nose.

He was busy clearing a corner and jerked his head for me to follow.

“I’d be more help if I had a gun too,” I said.

“Yeah right,” Seven snorted. “You’d blow my head off at the first opportunity.”

“I would not,” I said, feigning offense.

Although, I wasn’t sure if I was lying or not. Would I shoot him? I was pretty positive I wouldn’t, based solely on the absolute dread I felt at the very thought of it. And how I’d reacted when Marcello had him at gunpoint about to pull the trigger. Gross. Yeah, something was definitely wrong with me.

“Plus, you were drugged, yeah? Not sure I trust that aim—”

I opened my mouth to protest, because fuck him, my aim was fine, when Seven shoved me behind him. A group of four men rounded the corner. They didn’t stop to ask questions, but attacked Seven. He shot one before guns became useless. Two of them went after him, while one snuck around and lunged for me. I broke off a thorn and held it like a knife as the man advanced.

The drugs were fading, thank god, and I felt my reaction time coming back. I played it like I was still sedated though and lured the man closer. When he attacked, I landed several sharp blows to his face, and he stepped away in surprise. He rushed again, and I let him get a hit to my ribs in favor of a solid punch to his throat. He staggered backward and gripped his neck, choking on air. I didn’t hesitate and sent him to the ground where I landed on top of him and rained blows down on his head. Then, I grabbed the knife at his belt and drove it into the side of his neck.

I looked over to check on Seven.

He was upside down where he dangled from one of the traps. This one was set against the hedge, so he kept getting swung into the thorns. He’d killed another of our attackers, but the other one came out of his daze and scrambled for a gun. I lunged for it at the same time, and we collided hard. We rolled through the dirt and the man came out on top and attempted to wrestle the firearm from my grip.

I launched him off and we rolled again. I found a pressure point and drove all my strength into it. He let me go, and I turned the gun on him and pulled the trigger. I watched the life drain from his eyes and caught my breath, then I looked over at Seven. He kept attempting to crane his head to see me better. It would have been comical if it wasn’t serious.