“Jesus fuck, Landon!” Caleb hissed again, shoving me back. “You’re gonna fucking kill him, man,” he snarled.
“Good!” I roared back. “He had a gun, Caleb. Kennedy—”
“I’m okay, I’m okay.”
Her voice washed over me like some sort of calming blanket—a softness that instantly took the rage from my veins and stopped the shaking. I took a breath, my chest heaving and my fists slowly uncurling.
“Hey,” she said quietly, wrapping her arms around me there on the floor. “Come back to me, Landon,” she whispered in my ear. “Come back. We’re okay, okay? We’re all oka—”
The window above the sink shattered, and when I heard the peppering thud-thud-thud of something pelting the refrigerator, and the wall, and the door to my room, and the glass-framed artwork of Caleb’s, my body just moved on impulse.
So did Caleb’s.
Kennedy screamed as the hail of bullets shredded through the loft, glass shattering everywhere and the microwave above our stove exploding in a shower of sparks and fire. We both dove for her, pinning her to the floor and covering her with both of our bodies. I could hear myself roaring and feel the spray of brick dust and glass raining down across my back. The bullets just kept coming, and coming, and coming, until suddenly, the night went still.
I froze, and when it wasn’t until I heard the squeal of tires outside that I lunged up and ran for my room. I yanked the .45 out of my beside table, pelting back through the shattered loft to the far shattered window. I screamed as I fired, arm steady as I squeezed of round after round at the taillights roaring away down the street. I saw one blink out from one of my shots, but pretty soon, the car squealed around a corner, and was gone.
I lowered the gun, feeling the adrenaline blazing through me before I turned and moved back to Caleb and Kennedy. She was shaking in his arms, and when I came up behind her and also wrapped my arms around her, I could feel her gasping for air, trembling between us.
I glanced past her cheek at Caleb, and saw the grim look on his face, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing. We both knew what this meant.
…Harry Shaunessy—Shotgun Shaunessy—had found us. Somehow, even though we’d disappeared into the wilds up here on Blackthorn, the motherfucker had found us.
Suddenly, I whirled, my eye blazing as I turned towards the intruder I’d knocked the fuck out.
…He was gone.
I growled, pulling away from Kennedy and stalking towards the front door, which was half open—a trail of blood dripping across the landing and down the flight of stairs. My eyes scanned the night, but I already knew the fucker had probably managed to drag himself back to the drive-by car while they’d been spraying our goddamn home and our business with bullets.
I closed the door, turning, my muscles tensing and my jaw clenched tight. I looked at Kennedy, my mouth grim before I turned my eyes to Caleb.
“Harry,” he growled, his eyes blazing as hot as mine. “You know it’s Harry.”
I nodded, moving towards them and pulling Kennedy into me.
“The fuck do we do now,” Caleb hissed.
“Now?” My hands tightened on the girl I’d fallen for, every fiber of my being knowing I’d move heaven and hell, and storm both, to keep her safe.
“Now, we get ready to fight.”
Caleb nodded grimly. “It’s going to be us against the full force of his guys. You know that, right?”
I nodded back, leaning into kiss the top of Kennedy’s head as my arms tightened around her.
“Guess we better start calling in some favors.”
15
Caleb
The cigarette twirled in my fingers, rolling between my thumb and forefinger. Something fierce burned inside of me—rage anger, but my mind and my emotions also focused on something more immediate.
Her.
I looked across the garage through the glass windows of the office at Kennedy. She was sitting with her sister, Jackie, along with Addison, Ryker’s wife, and Axe’s wife Larkin. The rest of the world sort of tuned out, until my eyes saw Kennedy and Kennedy only, sitting there nursing a cup of coffee. The cigarette spun in my fingers again, before I brought it to my mouth, slipping it between my lips.
I didn’t light it.
I never did. I’d given up smoking along on with drinking and drugs when I’d gone clean. And now, they were almost like a focusing exercise for me. The one in my lips in that garage sure as shit was. It was helping me ground myself—to stop the whirlwind of rage swirling inside from consuming me. Because as furious as I was that someone had come after us, the fact that they could have hurt Kennedy too almost pushed me over the brink.
But blind rage would get us nowhere. I knew that. Landon knew it all too well. What we needed was to keep our shit together and think.