Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
She reached forward, rubbing it for a split second before quickly pulling her Glock, lifting it and taking two shots center mass at the one closest to her. The one with his fucking gun still pointed at her.
Or did.
She didn’t bother to wait to see if the fucker was down for the count before turning her Glock on the second one, who was definitely still breathing and raising his own weapon after staring in shock at his downed partner.
Before she could pull the trigger, the door crashed open, causing fragments from the wood frame to fly. Fletch, already with gun in hand, fired twice in quick succession, striking Russo’s soldier in the back.
Nova kept her weapon pointed at Dipshit’s chest when he, with wide eyes and a couple of extra orifices he wasn’t born with, folded to his knees in slow motion with his mouth gaped open. When he fell forward, he crashed to the floor face first.
Ouch. That would’ve hurt if he wasn’t dead.
She slipped her Glock back into its holster and took Fletch’s offered hand. Once he yanked her to her feet, she kicked Asshole with her boot. “Think I should check for a pulse?”
After holstering his own gun, he wiggled his fingers in his ears and worked his jaw. It would be a while before their ears stopped ringing. Shooting a gun in real life was nothing like the damn movies. “With the size of that puddle of blood, if he has a pulse now, he won’t soon.”
“Yeah, but you know someone had to have dialed 9-1-1 by now and I’d prefer the EMTs not be able to revive him.” She leaned over and pressed two fingers to the vein that ran along Asshole’s throat.
Nothing.
Fletch squatted next to Dipshit and did the same.
Their eyes met and both gave a shake of their head.
“Good shoot,” he said, rising back to his feet.
“I’d say.” It was a good shoot if out of the four people currently in her condo, the two still breathing were the only two that mattered.
“You okay?”
“I am now,” she answered.
Fletch’s brow furrowed. “So, who are these fuckers?”
“One guess.”
“Jesus fuck, Nova,” he exploded, scraping a hand down his beard. “You said they had no reason to hunt you down.”
“I didn’t think they did.”
“Did they accuse you of taking out their boss?”
“It sounded like they thought I was working for someone else. My guess is Frankie thinks I was a mole for another crime family. One with a beef with them.”
“How the fuck did they figure out where you live?”
“They found out my real name but I don’t know how.”
“They don’t know you’re FBI?”
“No, thank fuck. They gave no indication of that at all. Because if they knew, I’m sure I just would’ve been dispatched when I wasn’t expecting it. Instead, they wanted to take me to Frankie for his special type of questioning.”
“Christ. They would’ve tortured you for answers.”
“Yeah, I don’t think they were inviting me to a tea party and a cozy chat.”
“Thank fuck I came along with you.”
She ground her teeth together. “I was handling it.”
He stared at her with a look that said it all.
She released a slow breath and added, “But I appreciate you being my backup.” More than appreciated it.
He continued to stare at her silently.
She tacked on, “And for taking out Dipshit.”
“I know that must’ve been painful, but thank you for the recognition,” he said sarcastically and with a deadpan expression. He sighed. “Well, the bright side of this clusterfuck is they don’t know you’re FBI.”
“But that doesn’t mean Frankie won’t keep looking for me if they suspect me of being a plant for an enemy. The Russos certainly like their revenge.”
“Great,” he said dryly. “Well, good thing we have that apartment in Shadow Valley for now. They’d never expect you to be living and working with the Dirty Angels. They think you’re part of La Cosa Nostra, not an MC.”
“I just hope like fuck I’m not pulled from the task force. That could happen, Fletch. We both know that. They might consider me compromised.”
“Then you’ll have to convince them otherwise.”
That might be easier said than done.
Fletch brushed his fingers over his hair and shook his head. “For fuck’s sake, I just got off the phone with Crew, too. I guess I need to hit redial and see how he wants to handle this fucking mess.”
“And I’ll need to call my supervisor before the local uniforms get on scene. I’m expecting to hear sirens at any minute now.”
“Yeah, well… We’re going to be making a bunch of calls and it’s going to be a fucking shit show.”
It would be worse than a shit show with all the paperwork and interviews. Plus, most likely being sidelined until they were both cleared to go back to active duty.
And she wasn’t including the mess in her apartment from two men bleeding out from gunshot wounds. “I guess I’ll never be able to live here again.”