I look down at the bloodied bat and pout. It’s been fun swinging this around, but I know Veon’s right. I’m going to need something a bit more lethal for what awaits us next. I place the bat against the wall and almost shed a tear. I pull a gun out of the holster, and the weight of it settles in my grip. I’m not a massivefan of guns, but they are handy in situations like this. Not that I make a habit of being in a shoot-out. It’s not exactly good for your health.
“Ready?” Veon asks, cracking his neck and settling a hand on the back door.
“Yep,” I reply with a sharp nod.
He pulls the car key out of his pocket and hands it to me.
“No. I’m not taking that.”
“Echo, please. If one of us needs to get out of this alive, it’s you. Please take it.” The look he gives me is filled with desperation, and I can’t refuse. So, though it makes my heart shatter with the knowledge that I might have to leave him behind, I wrap my fingers around the key and shove it down my bra, cursing these assholes for choosing to attack the night I’m wearing something without any damn pockets.
“On the count of three then. One…”
I take a deep breath and adjust the grip on my gun.
“…Two.”
I close my eyes for a second and centre myself, calming my heartbeat and steadying my hands.
“Three.” Veon throws open the back door, and bullets immediately start flying.
Brick dust explodes by my head as I dart through the door. Fuck, that was close.
I fire off a few shots, catching the goons in the chest, arms and legs. I’m not as lethal as Veon, though. He shoots with a brutal efficiency, perfect head shots every time.
I grab one thug by his head and slam his head into the wall, watching as it cracks open and blood trails down his face and over the little crucifix tattoo under his right eye that marks him as one of the Seventh Street Diablos. Jesus, everyone wants this fucking phone. Maybe I should just give it to someone and be done with the fucking thing.
But then what would happen to the world?
“Move!” Veon barks, and I look up from the gaping head wound just in time to see another Diablo heading straight for me. I dart to the left and pull the trigger, catching him in the back of his head. He pitches forward and smacks the ground with his face.
“We need to leave,” Veon growls, and he pushes me towards the SUV.
Bullets continue to fly, and I catch sight of Max and Sphinx hurling around the corner, followed closely by Niki and Angel.
Thank fuck.
When I see them, I feel more relieved than I ever have in my entire life. They’re looking a little worse for wear, but they’realive.
I make it to the SUV and throw open the door. Jumping into the driver’s seat, I fire up the engine, throw it into drive like I’m in some fucking action movie and head towards the guys. “Get in!”
Veon hurls himself into the passenger seat, and I shoot the guy behind him who thinks he can get in the vehicle.
I don’t think so, pal.
I drive the SUV into the line of assholes surrounding the others and clock Niki grinning like a madman. He’scoveredin blood. There’s so much of it; his hair looks like he’s had a bad dye job. Not to mention the fact that his white dress shirt is in tatters because he’s covered in knife wounds.
Max doesn’t look much better. Pretty sure he’s got a bullet wound in his shoulder, but the other two look like they’ve only got minor cuts and scrapes. I think I just fell in love with Max and Niki a little bit more. I can tell both of them protected the guy at their six, and damn, if that isn’t the sexiest thing ever.
The four of them pile in the back seat. The SUV is a big vehicle, but with those four, the back seat looks comically small. Maxdrags Angel into his lap with a hiss, giving the others a little bit more room to fit in.
Once the last door is slammed shut, I put my foot on the accelerator and set the car going again. Bullets are still flying, but I manage to avoid them all. Or at least, I thought I had.
The four in the back are shouting and arguing over something, but I tune them out because there’s a hole in the front windscreen.
“Echo,” Veon splutters, my name sounding like a wet rasp, and I almost don’t look.
If I can’t see it, it’s not real.
