Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 93984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Fuck that lucky shot. This was what he got for listening to his partner in the first place. He should have just put a bullet into each of their heads as soon as they all stepped clear of the car.
Moving away from his cover, Gabriel pursed his lips together and whistled sharply. Like dogs, the two men who’d managed to get to their feet to approach Justin stopped and looked up. As quick as a flash of lightning, Gabriel squeezed on two rounds, burying a bullet into each man’s forehead and dropping them in the middle of the parking lot.
A shot fired, pinging off the side of the building, and Gabriel ducked into hiding, peeking out to see that the man he’d hit in the arm was now trying to fire at him using his left arm. He waited, breathing in and out calmly, letting his irritation slide away as he listened for the soft click of an empty chamber.
Swinging out again, Gabriel exhaled and squeezed, sending the slug through the center of the man’s chest.
“Fuck,” Justin groaned. A loud thud followed where he hit his head against the metal door. “Can you leave one of them alive, please?”
Gabriel walked over to Justin’s side but kept his eyes trained on the one man leaning on the side panel at the front of the opposite car, holding his shoulder and cursing. His gun lay at his feet, but Gabriel wasn’t letting his guard down.
“You good?”
“No, but I’ll live,” Justin grunted. He took the hand Gabriel extended to him and used it to get to his feet with another round of swearing.
“How?”
Justin groaned and made a face, but it looked like it was more from embarrassment than pain. “Stupid round ricocheted off the door frame. I think it’s stuck in muscle on my side. Let’s get this done so I can dig it out.”
Gabriel took the lead, approaching the other man. He paled as they stood over him, his dark-blue shirt soaked with blood.
“Who hired you?” Gabriel demanded.
“Fuck you. I don’t gotta tell you nothing.”
Gabriel lowered the end of the gun from the man’s head to his stomach and fired again. The man screamed, lurching and rolling to the side, only to scream again when he landed on his wounded shoulder. Blood smeared across the car and started to pool on the fractured concrete.
“What the hell?” Justin demanded. “I said not to kill him.”
“It’s just a little shot to the stomach.” Gabriel spoke softly, not bothering to look up at his partner. He squatted down, narrowing his eyes on the man panting unevenly in front of him. “Slow bleeder. It’ll take a while to die from that. Slow and painful.”
“Fuck!” The punk swore and moaned. His already pale skin had lost what little color it had while sweat glistened on his face.
“I can keep doing it.” He pressed the end of the gun to the knee closest to him. “One joint after another. All pain. Slow death.”
“Fuck, I don’t know! I don’t know!” their assailant spat, struggling to turn just enough onto his back so that he wasn’t putting his weight on his shoulder. “Just some suit. Paid us a few Gs to watch that house. Said some doc stole research. If anyone snuck into the house, we were to get whatever they stole.”
“Fabulous,” Justin grumbled.
It was about what Gabriel had expected. He stood and aimed for the man’s forehead, but Justin grabbed his wrist, pulling his arm to the side.
“Don’t,” Justin growled.
Gabriel’s heart gave an unexpected flutter at Justin’s touch, and he immediately jerked his hand free. He didn’t want to feel that flutter, and he definitely didn’t want to be distracted from their current problem. “He can identify us.”
“He won’t.”
Kneeling, Justin pulled what appeared to be a white business card out of his pocket and held it up. He roughly grabbed the hand the man was pressing to his stomach and lined up three of his fingers before pressing the tips onto the white card he held in his left hand, leaving behind three perfect bloody fingerprints.
Justin held it up, showing the man the card. “I’m going to bet your fingerprints are on record somewhere, and I promise that I can locate them. I can locate your name, address, and the location of your entire family. One word to the cops and my friend will hunt down everyone you care about before he comes to finish you off.”
“Got it,” he whined. “I’ve already forgotten your faces.”
Justin stood and turned to the car, while Gabriel scooped up the gun at the wounded man’s feet, then followed his companion. His steps were slow, but Justin stubbornly held himself upright as if determined to hide how injured he was.
Catching him as he reached the driver’s side, Gabriel gave Justin a push to keep him walking around the car. “I’m driving.”