“What?”
“That cop fucker you hate. And somebody else. A giant of a man. They’re dressed in camo. Means they’re up to something.”
“Summers? Are you fucking serious? What’s the prick doing inside the building?”
I stood over Hammer’s shoulder and narrowed my eyes. Heavy rain clouds had moved in front of the sun on and off for the last half hour, threatening a storm. It was dark inside the room, but I could see their faces because of Hammer zooming in. My gaze fell on a brute of a man, almost bigger than Ox.
I’d thought Ox was a freak of nature, but this dude was a tank. He was gesturing wildly with his arms. The person he was speaking to was none other than fucking Harrison Summers. Seemed like they were arguing.
Who the hell was the giant man, and what the fuck were they doing here? Had they gotten wind of the deal going down off base right now? Fuck. Alarm bells went off in my head—I had to warn Cobra and the boys.
“Get hold of Cobra. Tell him,” I barked. Unease settled in my gut. The arms deal was going down in less than a fucking hour, and here was trouble brewing. I could just smell it.
Hammer sprung into action, grabbing the special phone he’d set up for emergencies like this. But before he could even get hold of Cobra, something drew my eye back to the screen in front of me.
Jesus Christ. Somebody was clearing over the wall. Our wall. Into our compound. In broad fucking daylight. Granted it was ominously dark with the clouds sitting so low in the sky, but I couldn’t believe my eyes.
“Fuck!” I shouted, pointing to the screen. Hammer lifted his head just in time to see the hooded man jump into the compound, landing on his feet.
My heart nearly leapt out of my throat as he made his way to where my Scorpio family was enjoying the barbeque. Everyone was busy dishing up and going inside to the clubhouse, probably to get out of the way of the threatening rainstorm.
The man was dressed in black from head to toe, a balaclava over his face, so that only his eyes shone through the slits as he stalked toward the people, crouching close to the wall. Stunned, I watched in horror—it was all happening so fast . . .
“Stay. Watch,” I shouted to Hammer as I drew my gun and bolted out the door toward the outside square. My heart beat so hard in my chest, I was sure to have a few cracked ribs. Sweat poured down my forehead and into my eyes as adrenaline rushed through my body.
“Watch out!” I yelled. “Get down to the ground!” I burst through the doors into the square. The man had beaten me here. What the fuck did he want?
Everyone hit the ground, except for little Jamie. He stood there, dumbfounded, his big brown eyes wide, staring at me. He was just about to burst into tears when the man stormed down on him and scooped him up like an eagle on his prey. It was as if I saw everything clearly in slow motion.
Fuck. No.
Not one of the kids.
This fucking horror movie playing out in front of me had better be a fucking bad dream that I was going to wake up from at any moment . . .
“He’s got Jamie! No. Somebody, stop him!” Mia wailed as she got to her feet, her arms stretched out as she stumbled and tripped and smashed back down onto the concrete, screaming.
Ratbag was the closest. The man was running back in the same direction as what he’d come over the wall, with Jamie tucked under his arm. Ratbag lunged at him, knocking him sideways into the wall. Jamie screamed bloody murder as his head hit the wall with a thud so loud, I could hear it from where I was standing.
I aimed at the man’s head. This fucker was going down. I squeezed the trigger. The sound of the gunshot rendered me nearly deaf. That’s probably why I didn’t hear Ratbag’s scream as he went down.
Jesus fucking Christ! Had I just shot Ratbag?
Immobilized by fear, I stood there for what felt like an eternity. The smell of gunpowder filled my nostrils, bringing with it all kinds of bad memories. I watched as Ratbag’s legs folded under him and he crashed to the floor. Slow motion—it was all happening in fucking frame-by-frame action.
The man pushed away from the wall, blood streaming over his hand. Jamie’s little body was lifeless as the man hoisted him over his shoulder and disappeared out of sight.
A full-blown panic attack gripped me, sending my already racing heart into near arrest. This was fucking déjà vu. Visions of Max as a boy flashed before me. Cold sweat broke out on my skin as I remembered what he had looked like after Tiny had thrashed him brutally against the wall.
Ratbag!
He lay there. Dead still. Fuck.
My legs felt like someone had poured concrete into them, yet I willed them to move by sheer determination, forcing one in front of the other until I fell to my knees by the side of my friend. My stomach lurched. Mayhem had broken out around me. I couldn’t even hear my own screams as I trembled, turning him over, searching for the bullet wound I’d blown through him sixty seconds ago.