Savage Hearts: Chapter 20

As always in a gunfight, things happen fast.

The bodyguard makes his first tactical mistake by not hitting the lights. If he did, it would’ve temporarily blinded me. But my eyes are adjusted to the dark, and his aren’t.

Also, he’s standing in the middle of the doorway, outlined in light from the hall.

He couldn’t have made himself a better target if he’d tried.

I get off the first shot.

He drops to a knee and fires back.

He misses. The slug embeds itself into the drywall over my shoulder.

I’m aware of Riley screaming but block it out, concentrating on the bodyguard. I plug him with two more rounds before he’s down, coughing up blood.

The blond bodyguard with the spiderweb neck tattoo appears in the doorway. He’s crouched low, weapon at the ready, finger on the trigger. I expect to feel a bullet rip through me somewhere, but movement from my right distracts me.

It’s Riley.

Jumping in front of me.

Screaming, “No!”

There’s a split second of confusion where I don’t understand what’s happening. What is she doing? Why isn’t she staying on the bed?

Then a shot rings out. Her body jerks. She slams back against me with a cry, then drops to the floor at my feet and lies there, unmoving.

The bodyguard crouched in the doorway stares at her in blank, white-faced horror.

The moment of confusion clears, and I understand what happened.

She just took the bullet meant for me.

Deliberately.

Howling rage burns through my soul. A roar of fury rips from my chest. I step over Riley, gun pointed at the guard’s head, but stop short when she groans.

“No, Mal. Please. Don’t hurt him.”

The guard is frozen in place. He can’t look away from Riley. He’s still holding his gun out, but his eyes are wide and unblinking, focused on her.

I’ve seen this before, this type of disbelief. It’s a kind of denial so powerful, it can shut down a man’s entire nervous system.

His brain is refusing to acknowledge what he’s done. His whole being has become non-operational. I could empty an entire magazine into his chest and he wouldn’t even blink.

“Mal. Please.”

It’s weak. The barest of whispers.

But hearing it, hearing the way she says my name, takes just enough edge off my murderous impulse to rip the guard to pieces with my bare hands.

I bludgeon him with my gun, instead.

He topples sideways with a grunt, blood pouring from his temple.

I turn around, pick Riley up, and cradle her motionless body against my chest as I walk out the door.