Page 171 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
Flames are dancing right above me that I swear to God weren’t there five minutes ago.
The old barn groans dramatically, and the platform above us tilts to the side. I’m barely able to scramble out of the way as it crashes into the dirt in a sea of sparks and flame, cutting me off from both Sin and Beast.
It’s fallen at an angle, too, effectively trapping me on this side unless I’m willing to run clear around it in the open space in the center of the barn. Shit, fuck, damn it. I shove up to my feet, ignoring the burn in my leg and the acrid reek of the smoke. It’s coming in thick, charcoal gray plumes now, embers drifting down around me like bright orange raindrops.
Pretty sure the fucking roof is on fire.
I’m almost blind here now with all of that smoke, and so I end up running straight into someone else’s back. The lack of leather is a dead giveaway that this isn’t a Daybreaker. Or maybe it’s just instinct that tells me to lift my weapon.
I do, but it’s too late. The person I’ve just run into slams their hand beneath my outstretched arms, spins and then nails me right in the stomach with an elbow. I grunt, the air knocked out of me, and then I stumble back. I’m proud of myself for keeping both my feet and my weapon, but I can hardly see.
Rather than to try to fight my attacker in the thick of the smoke, I start to run, the air clearing dramatically with each step that I take. Unfortunately, it’s still too hazy for me to see much at all, and I end up tripping on Grey’s body, stumbling to the ground and knocking my elbow so hard against the exterior wall that I see stars.
I’m still registering what just happened when a foot comes down hard on my wrist, loosing the gun from my fingers. A knee slams me directly in the face, and I taste blood. Whoever it is that’s attacking me grabs me by the hair and yanks me away from the wall and my lost weapon, dragging me through the dirt.
“You little bitch,” the voice hisses as I’m thrown against the wall of crates, knocking several of them down around me. I throw my arms up to protect my head, but even though the crates are empty, it hurts when the wooden corners stab into my arms, cutting and bruising me as they tumble around, trapping me in the center of the mess. I look up to see Alvise stalking toward me. He’s missing his gun, and his suit is torn wide. He’s bleeding, too, but he’s obviously more than capable of kicking my ass.
Get up, Gidge! I throw myself forward and hit him in the knees, knocking him back a few steps but failing to put him on the ground with me. I push back to a crouching position and throw a hard punch right at his balls. I manage to hit him in the crotch, but although he snarls in pain, he doesn’t stop moving.
He lifts up his foot and kicks me as hard as he can, sending me sprawling. Even though my body is screaming in pain, I’m used to it at this point. Been here, done this before. I shove up to all fours, crawling quickly across the ground and snatching a loose piece of wood that broke off the side of a crate.
I turn just in time to slam the wooden board into Alvise’s midsection. That buys me enough time to get to my feet but not enough to reach for my second pistol. The asshole is on me that quickly, grabbing onto the wooden board and yanking on it so hard that he drags me forward with it and we end up slamming together.
I’m coughing like crazy now; it’s so goddamn hard to breathe. It’s thick and hot and cloying, and all I want to do now is find my men and get out of here. I still have no idea if Grey is alive or not, but I’m not sure that I’ll have the luxury of rescuing him this time.
My skull flares with pain as Alvise knocks his forehead into mine, wrenching the wooden board away from me so hard that my hands are torn apart by the splinters. He swings it at me and manages to nail me right in the stomach.
The air rushes out of me as I double over, chills skittering across my skin despite the heat. No! No, no, no. Alvise hits me again and I stumble, stars dancing in my eyes as I gag and choke on the dark plumes of smoke, my eyes watering with the pain, with the grit of the smoke. He kicks me then, his foot nailing me hard in the stomach.
