Page 153 of Dirty Deadly & Mine
“Wanna tell me who I’m about to kill?” I snap, and they fall quiet.
“Wanna tell us why a suburban mum is turning up to a fight meant for the Crimson Angel?” the guy behind me asks, and I return my focus to him as I take a few steps to the side, trying to put distance between us.
“I’m guessing you already know that, since you were the one to send me the message.”
He nods. “It’s impressive, really. You wear the mask of ahousewife, hairdresser, and mum, and in your spare time, you slaughter people.”
“Bad people. That’s important to note,” I say, stepping back again.
There might be a door on this side in the shadows that I can escape out of… I hope.
“I guess they are. But you’re obviously pissing off thewrongpeople. Now you have a target on your head.”
I shrug. “Just another successful day of business.”
“Well, that’s about to end.” The guy lurches forward in a sprint towards me, which distracts me from the knife gliding through the air before it lodges into my arm.
Pain explodes all the way down my arm and up into my neck, but I grip the handle as my adrenaline temporarily numbs the pain, spinning away from the guy as he nears, and I stab the knife into his back.
His bellow is loud, but the gunfire is louder as shots start whirring through the church, lodging into the stone wall behind me.
I shoot a few rounds in the general direction of the three, but I have no idea if any hit as I run in the opposite direction, towards the altar.
The loud pop of gunfire meets my ears again before a bullet slams into the back of my shoulder, so forcefully that it sends me flying forward to the ground. I cry out and try to get up, my hand slipping in my own blood.
The heavy weight of one of the assassins suddenly slams into my back, crushing me down to the floor.
My head explodes in pain as a blow to the back of my head rattles me, and a fist to the side of my face has my teeth chattering. Large booted feet slam into my legs and torso, pain exploding all over my body.
I should’ve known this was a trap. I was reckless. Not even considering a phone call to Barrett to discuss the lead that came through. He would’ve told me to wait, which is exactly why I didn’t call him.
Because I was being reckless. Too cut up about all the hurtI’ve caused others to think about my own fucking safety. And now, I’m going to die.
I want to cry at that thought, my mind going to Jude and Ronan and all the things I wish I’d told them. All the things I wish I’d taught them.
And Asher. Fuck, Asher. He has my heart and soul. It’s crazy, but it’s true, and I’ll never get to tell him just how much he means to me. How important he is.
As the hits and kicks keep coming, I wonder why they don’t just shoot me in the head and get it over with. Why prolong it?
Perhaps it was a stipulation by the person who called the hit.
Make her suffer.
Good fucking work, whoever you are. I’ll be waiting for you in Hell.
Just as I resign myself to that fate, I can hear something happening past the ringing in my ears.
A scuffle? A gunshot? Yelling. Yelps.
The hits lessen. The kicks vanish, and then I’m left lying there in a pool of my own blood. Left to die.
I try to speak. To make a noise, but all that comes out is a gravelly rasp.
“Lily.”
I must already be dead. Hearing that voice is so out of place here.
“Lily.” I’m jostled. Someone shakes me and I try to blink. Try to see.
