We don’t have time to get into what she heard because whoever is in this building with us is coming our way. Their footsteps grow louder with each passing second. The worst thing being that it sounds to me like those footsteps are coming from two directions, which makes protecting Echo hard. I want her behind me so I can keep her safe, but that’s not going to happen as far as I can work out.
Throwing a quick glance around the room, I note a row of cupboards to our right. Taking hold of Echo’s arm, I drag her to them. “Can you squeeze in behind these?” I ask, indicating the cupboards that she looks small enough to fit behind.
“Yes, but—”
“No buts.” I push her to where I want her. “Get in there and don’t leave until I sort out these guys.”
“Colt,” she starts, but I cut her off again.
“We don’t have time to argue over this,” I say with some force, needing her to just do as I say. Those footsteps are getting close.
We may not have much lighting, but I can make out the frustration on her face. I also hear it in her voice when she grumbles, “I could help you, you know.”
She could.
She could also put herself in harm’s way and that’s not something I’m taking a risk on.
Once she’s out of view, I cut across the room as quickly as I can and position myself crouched down behind a group of desks that give me good coverage.
Less than a minute later, a guy walks past me. He gives a quick look to each side as he moves, but he doesn’t see me. Once he’s a few steps away, I slide out from where I am and move in behind him, hooking my arm around his neck.
Yanking him against me, I put my gun to his head and demand, “Who the fuck are you?”
His hands come to my forearm, digging into my skin as he tries to struggle out of my hold. My grip is too tight for him to achieve his goal.
When he doesn’t answer my question, I apply more pressure to his throat. “What are you doing here?”
“You Zane Stone?”
That question alone tells me something: he’s been sent by someone.
“Who wants to know?”
A voice sounds from behind. “Me.”
Fuck, I didn’t realise this second asshole was so close.
But I’m sure as shit not letting him take me out.
With my arm still hooked around the first guy’s neck, I jerk him down as I squat. Turning, I note asshole number two coming at me, so I aim my gun at him, ready to shoot. I’m about to pull the trigger when Echo jumps onto his back and wraps her arms and legs around him.
She distracts me for a split second, which is enough for the guy I’m holding to gain the upper hand. He wrenches himself free of my grip and manages to throw a punch, his fist connecting with my cheek hard enough to knock me sideways.
My attention is still half on Echo who has taken to pressing her fingers into asshole number two’s eyes while doing her best to cling to him as he attempts to shove her off his back.
Fucking hell.
Bringing the other half of my attention back to the guy I’m dealing with, I throw a punch, my fist landing on his face. It’s enough to take control of the situation, and I use that control to punch him a few times so I can knock him to the ground, at which point I get a few more hard punches in so he’s almost unconscious.
“Who the fuck are you?” I demand again as I stand over him with my gun aimed at his head.
“Go to fucking hell,” he rasps, having trouble getting the words out.
Echo’s guy finally manages to dislodge her from his back, jerking her off with a sudden movement that sends her crashing to the floor. Again, I’m momentarily fucking distracted by the loud thud as she lands and the cry of pain that rips from her. This gives the asshole the opportunity to come at me with his fists.
He knocks my gun from my hand and punches me. Pain flares in my cheek from the force, but I ignore it and punch him back. Within seconds, we’re trading punches back and forth, each harder than the one before.
It’s a physical-as-fuck fight, both of us determined to win.
The mess of furniture and computers that Zane has stored in this room end up all over the place as we push and punch each other here, there, and every-fucking-where.
I lose track of Echo as I focus every bit of attention I have on taking this motherfucker down.
It’s not until she calls out “Colt!” that I’m drawn back to her.
I’m smarter this time, though, and don’t fucking take my eyes off the asshole trying to take me down. “What?” I yell as I punch him again. My knuckles are coated in his blood and this punch adds some more.
“You want me to shoot him?”
The fuck?
I glance at her and note my gun in her hands.
Of course I fucking want her to shoot him.
“Yes! But not to fucking kill,” I yell back before taking a punch to the face that sends me to my ass.
Echo shoots and the asshole crumples to the floor too.
I push up as fast as I can, but he’s faster, even with a fucking bullet in his leg.
Before I can get to her, he’s got Echo by the throat, squeezing hard enough to stop oxygen getting in. She’s doing her best to fight him off, but she has little hope of succeeding. Echo is fucking tiny. Even if she’s got some muscle hidden under those clothes, this asshole is built like a brick shithouse. She’s no match for him.
I lunge at the guy, wrapping my hands around his neck and tearing him away from Echo. It takes considerable pressure on his throat to get him to let her go. This appears to piss him the hell off. His eyes scream his rage when they find mine, and we go head-to-head again.
This time, we’re both fuelled by fury.
Getting into a fight isn’t something I ever avoid. Not if it’s for my club. And not if it’s to protect myself or others. But fighting feeds a part of me that shouldn’t be fed. With today being my birthday, one of the days of the year I can’t forget the heavy shit I’ve lived through, that dark part of me is already half alive and just waiting to be fed.
My arms move by themselves.
My mind dissociates from my body.
My soul welcomes the violence.
Somewhere down deep I know I need to keep this guy alive. The club needs that so we can question him. But right fucking now, while we’re going at it, I fucking want him dead. I want him to hurt.
The trouble is, he wants the same with me.
We trade blows for what feels like a long fucking time.
It’s fists, and blood, and the kind of hell I don’t feel now but that’ll surface later.
I barely recall Echo is in the room with us.
My mind is completely focussed on what I’m doing.
Until the other guy joins back in.
That’s when the shit hits the fucking fan.
I thought I’d pretty much knocked him unconscious. Turns out I didn’t.
I’m mid-punch, my fist ready to collide with the second asshole’s cheek, when the first dickhead fucking comes at me.
It’s a liver shot.
Painful as fuck.
I go down immediately.
Breathless.
Burning pain.
Like hot fucking lava and acid all rolled into one.
My thoughts are clear as fucking day. I need to get the fuck up, need to protect Echo, but my body won’t fucking move.
Fuck.
We’re screwed.