Page 167 of Intent to Kill
Adam wiped the blood from his face and opened his eyes, wanting to look Blake in the eye as it happened.
“You should’ve never come back to this city.”
Tires screeched in the distance. No—not the distance. Impossibly close by... A crash sounded, flattening the tendrils of the hedge maze and forcing the wind forward like an explosion. The car wasn’t stopping. It smashed right into the side of the firepit.
“What the fu–” Blake turned to look.
Leaping over the dashboard of the car wreck and over the fire, there she was, blood coating her sides, her face, her arms. But that look. That look in her eyes. That growl on her face. She was a wolf readying for a kill.
Adam darted upward as Mercedes leaped onto Blake’s back, thrusting him down.
Snatching the gun close to his chest, Dorian smacked Mercedes across the cheek, making her stumble backward. “You’re all supposed to be dead!”
All his fight and fire poured right back into his body. Suddenly, the cut on his leg didn’t seem so debilitating. Suddenly, the wounds and all the blood didn’t seem like too much to overcome.
Now he was going to win.
Adam took his opportunity and leaped forward, knocking the gun right out of Blake’s hands and sending it flying across the garden.
Blake readied a punch, but Mercedes grabbed his elbow to stop him. He smacked her back, but then the fight was in full swing.
From either side, Adam and Mercedes punched, ducked, and kicked, throwing attacks, dodging return punches from Blake, faltering back when a blow landed. Blake was a legacy, sure, but a slippery fuck either way.
When Blake grabbed Adam’s fists in mid-air and held him still, Mercedes was already there, tackling both of them to the grass in a messy heap.
Blake picked up another potted plant and threw it at Adam, dropping him to the grass. Then he was crawling toward his gun, but Mercedes grabbed his legs and pulled him back while he kicked at her to release.
Standing upright thanks to the distraction, Adam darted for Blake, kicking his hands away from Mercedes, who rolled onto her back to spit more blood from her mouth.
The next thing Adam knew, his skull was being bashed into the floor. Blake had wrapped his arms around Adam’s legs, tackling him to the ground.
He was exhausted. He’d survived too much. They all had. But this was it. The gun was within reach. Whoever got it would be the winner. It was odd, after all the fighting, to think this was the only moment that would actually make a difference.
They fought violently for control in the crumpled heap of their bodies.
Mercedes stood up warily, her wounds seeping, but she stayed strong. And she was heading for the gun.
Looking away, Adam resolved to keep Blake distracted so that she could reach the weapon. But whatever was on his face had already given him away, and Blake turned to notice Mercedes pulling ahead.
Palm to his face, Dorian smashed Adam’s head down and rushed up himself. And so Adam stood quickly as well.
Blake gripped Mercedes by the neck, lifting her clear up into the air and discarding her body like tissue.
Both he and Adam reached the gun at the same time, diving onto it and grabbing it with both their hands. They struggled for control, rolling around to fight for the strength to pull the trigger. To end the other.
Every wound on his tired body screamed at him to stop. But he wouldn’t. He had to finish it. Just long enough to get Blake off–
But suddenly the tides turned.
Blake grappled and pushed Adam down, pointing the gun at his chest and squeezing the trigger.
He clicked it three times.
Three times. No shots. Just empty bullets.
Blake stared at the gun in wide-eyed horror, like it was infected with the plague or something else unexplainable.
Adam gave him a knowing look. “That’s not your gun.”
