Keeping Gemma (Holiday Cove 2)

“You’re alone, Rosen, and I’ll make sure that whatever is left of your wire is thrown into the river along with whatever is left of your body.”

Giovanni’s heavy brow lifted in surprise, or maybe it was panic, and as my eyes darted, O’Keefe lunged for me. He hit my bad side and the room spun. Somehow, he’d known exactly where to hit, and blood oozed down my side, the stitches in my side no match for the brute force of his blow.

I knew the FBI would be knocking down the door at any moment, they were parked in a surveillance van around the corner, but I had to make sure I stayed alive until they got there.

Which would be a helluva lot easier to do if I was conscious.

O’Keefe’s fist got in another blow, this time inches beneath my wound, and the vibrations ripped through me, stealing my breath. I blocked his third attempt, grabbed his wrist, and with a quick jerk, locked his arm behind his back and pushed him between Giovanni and me, using him as a buffer.

“Tell him to drop the knife, Hank.” I roared into his ear.

“Or what? You’re an unarmed man.” O’Keefe sneered.

Giovanni lunged, and at the last second, I careened left, letting O’Keefe take the point of the knife. It sliced through his bicep and O’Keefe howled. “You fucking idiot!”

Giovanni’s face registered horror as he realized he’d gashed his boss. “Tell him to drop it. It’s over, O’Keefe. FBI are gonna bust through that door within the next minute. You’re done.”

“Okay, okay,” O’Keefe hissed. I held his arm tight behind him. His elbow was bent at an awkward angle, and I kept just enough pressure to make sure he knew I was flirting with the idea of breaking it.

If left to my own devices, there was a lot more I wanted to do.

“Drop the knife Gio,” he said, jerking his chin toward the table. Giovanni obeyed the order. “There. Now let me go, Rosen.”

I laughed in his ear. “Not a chance, Hank. I’m going to personally hand your sorry ass over to the feds. I just hope they have a hole deep and dark enough to accommodate you.”

Somehow, I doubted it.

The motel room door flew open, pulling me from the revenge fantasy I’d been constructing in my head. We all jerked to attention. “Freeze! FBI!”

I nudged my chin in Giovanni’s direction. “Come on. Tiny, step away from the knife!” Said one agent. He cut a look to O’Keefe and then backed off. “Time’s up.”

My body gave me a sharp reminder of the re-opened gash in my side and pain radiated from the wound so strongly that I couldn’t breathe for a moment. “Fuck,” I gasped, catching my first full breath. I dropped my attention from the agents to look down at my side and used my casted hand to snag the edge of my jacket. I peeled it away and saw the dark red seeping through my thin t-shirt.

Gemma was gonna kill me…

I sucked in another full breath and shoved O’Keefe as forcefully as I could. I didn’t want him to see my weakness.

In the split second that I was off-balance, he reared his elbow back and hit me with his full force. Stars burst behind my eyes and I doubled over, unable to suck in a breath. The door opened and raised voices shouted as the agents entered the fray. I couldn’t look up, my eyes remained closed as I put all my effort into getting another gasp of air. It was like my lungs had ruptured and were no longer capable of drawing oxygen into my body.

“Rosen, get down!”

The panicked voice rose through the madness and my eyes popped open. I looked up just in time to see O’Keefe cocking a pistol—before I could get out a word or make a move, the sounds of gunfire blasted through the room. And I hit the floor.

Before I could figure out where the pain was coming from, my eyes slammed closed, and the voices and chaos faded to black nothingness.

37

“Aaron? Aaron come on. Open your eyes…please baby…please.”

Gemma was calling for me. I wanted to see her face. But I was surrounded by darkness. Lost. Alone. I tried to force my eyes open, but they were too heavy. I tried to move my hands, to open my mouth, to smile, but I couldn’t tell if any of it made a difference.

“No…nothing’s changed,” it was Gemma again, her tone dejected and sad. “I’ll come back later to check on him.”

Her voice faded and I was left alone in silence.

I’m here, Gemma. Come back!

“Wait! Gemma, come back!”

Yes, yes, it was working!

“What?”

“Did you—he moved! I saw it!”

“He did?” Gemma’s voice sailed into hopefulness.

I needed to figure out how to move again. I channeled all of my energy into replicating whatever I had done moments before, but I couldn’t feel anything. Please, wake up. Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes.