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Jake is on my door in a split second and helps me out. “Are you okay?” he asks me.
We all sit behind the car, hidden from the front of the hangar where some of Volkov’s men are coming out.
“I think so,” I reply, my whole body trembling.
His eyes land on my arm and widen. “No, no you’re not.”
I look down at my bleeding arm. Right, maybe I’m not okay.
“I can’t feel it,” I reassure him. And I really can’t anymore.
“That’s the adrenaline! You’re fucking bleeding gallons right now!”
“I’m okay,” I insist.
I look up behind the car and my eyes widen. Sam is committing a massacre with the few of Volkov’s men that came outside. His aim is perfect, his focus lethal.
He grabs another magazine out of his pocket and turns to Rose. “If I wasn’t short on bullets, you’d be receiving one too.”
She rolls her eyes and turns to me. “We’ll get you help, Jamie.”
“I’m fine,” I repeat. But I feel a little more lightheaded.
“They’re all coming this way,” Sam rages. “We need a distraction.”
“Give me that,” Jake grabs the empty gun.
“It’s empty, mate.”
“I fucking know that, asshole. Give me more.”
He slides him another magazine and Jake escapes with it, slipping behind one of the black cars that crashed into us.
There are three men left in front of the hangar. I don’t know how many inside.
Jake shows his head from the side and one of the men sees him.
“One here!” he says as he changes his trajectory.
Understanding his plan, Rose grabs Sam’s gun and gives it to me. I nod straight away and crawl to the other car that crashed into us. I show my face and another guy catches me. “And here,” he says before coming my way.
The last one is still heading toward Sam and Rose. Sam slips to one side of our car and Rose to the other, still staying out of view.
Rose suddenly gets up. She whistles at the man coming their way and smiles at him. “Here, dickhead.”
The guy aims the gun at her but he’s too late, Sam is already on him from the back and the snap of his neck rings loud on the empty parking lot.
The two guys that were watching Jake and I suddenly run to Sam. Jake and I use the distraction to make a run for it. We sprint toward the warehouse with all our strength. By the time they react, we’re too far for them to aim at us.
I slip into a side door and hope Jake is doing the same on the other side.
I hear some gunshots outside and shudder. Please, let it be Sam killing more of Volkov’s men and not the other way around.
I stop dead in my tracks as I slide in. I can see Jake coming in from the other side. The problem is, in the middle of the hangar, three people are surrounding Nate. He’s in a fetal position on the floor, blood pouring out of his already injured shoulder. His bruised, swollen face is barely recognizable.
One of the men is older, his hair all white, his face wrinkled. He’s wearing an all-black suit and stands a little further away with a smug smile on his face. It has to be Volkov.
“The downfall of the Bianco family is the sweetest thing to watch,” he says in a strong Russian accent. His foot lands on Nathan’s face hard enough to make him gargle a whimper.
