Page 22 of Redemption
“Get in!” my brother yells from the front seat of the SUV.
“Not yet. I’m on the shooter. Go. Get the priest out of here!”
I slam the door behind me and start running toward the gunman.
“What are you doing?” From the tone of my brother’s question, he must think I’m insane, but I don’t care right now.
“I need answers!” I yell, arms pumping with guns in hand as I run straight into danger.
I guess that rebirth didn’t last long.
Chapter Ten
Lachlan
Keira is going to be so pissed at me. It’s the only thing I can think as I sprint toward the man stumbling away from the blood-smeared mausoleum.
She told me not to come without backup. I assured her that I wouldn’t be at risk. No one knew the time or location of the funeral, except for me and the priest.
Someone followed the priest. Or someone followed me. I don’t know which.
Ever since V was cut down, I don’t know who to trust to take my back. Suddenly, everyone’s loyalty is suspect.
But my wife told me not to come alone, and I didn’t listen.
She’ll never let me go out without security again, I think as I launch my entire body through the air like a high school football player making a tackle.
My shoulder collides with the running man first, and I wrap my arms around his waist.
You’re not fucking getting away from me. Not after this.
We hit the grass with a bone-rattling thud.
“Fuck, fuck. Just kill me then! Fucking hell!” The man’s voice is overcome with pain.
I must’ve hit him somewhere he didn’t like. Too fucking bad. Actions have consequences. Don’t want to get shot? Don’t shoot at me. Easy enough.
“Who fucking hired you?” I say as I crawl up his body and flip him over onto his back. Hell. It’s a fucking kid. He can’t be more than eighteen.
Blood splatter is all over his face, and his black T-shirt is soaked with it. I can’t tell where he’s hit yet.
“Fuck you!”
“Where are you hit?”
“Fuck you!”
“Idiot,” I murmur, looking for the hole. Shoulder. Fuck.
He’s bleeding way more than he should be for a shoulder wound.
Fuck. Killing a kid was not my intention today.
“If you don’t want to die, you’re going to answer my questions.”
“I ain’t answering shit! Kill me now, or I’ll kill you, motherfucker,” he spits at me, clearly out of the idiocy of youth.
“You have no idea who you’re fucking with, kid.” Without a second thought, I whack him upside the head with the butt of my pistol to shut him up and shove one of my guns back into the holster. “Don’t fucking move if you want to live longer than five minutes.”
