The guy’s grip was firm, steady, the gun aimed appropriately.
Not an amateur.
“We’re just here for the princess,” the shorter guy said mockingly.
Despite his short stature, the guy was built like a Mack truck, all beefed up. Unlike his friend, he looked a little twitchy, like this was the first time he’d taken a restaurant hostage at gunpoint.
“Don’t make this hard, doll,” the big guy told Madison directly. “We all know it ends the same way.”
“I hate to break it to you, but she’s got other plans tonight,” Reese said, taking stock of the situation even as he nudged Madison farther behind him.
Two guys, two guns. One possibly competent, the other not. The only positive was that they both appeared distracted. Probably figured they had complete control of the situation thanks to the weapons. Reese knew he had to get the element of surprise if he stood even half a chance.
“Not no more, she don’t,” the bigger guy said.
“Look, man, we don’t want any trouble,” Reese continued, tracking their reactions, the way their eyes shifted, their lips pursed, the sweat forming on the other one’s brow.
“If you sit down and shut the fuck up, there ain’t gonna be no trouble,” the big meathead said, swinging his gun in Madison’s direction.
“I can’t do that,” he said firmly, stepping to the side, putting himself between Madison and a bullet.
The big guy chuckled, glancing over at his buddy. “You hear this one? He can’t do that.”
Evidently that was amusing because the other guy laughed.
“Ah, there he is now,” Reese bluffed, nodding in the direction of the door.
“There’s wh—”
The second they turned their heads, Reese took advantage, nailing the big fucker in the face with his fist and sending him flat to the floor. Unfortunately, he didn’t knock him out entirely, nor did he knock the gun from his hand.
With his buddy laid out on the floor, the shorter one reacted, lunging in Reese’s direction, telling him he was more of a brawler than a shooter.
“Go, Madison!” Reese shouted, elbowing the short guy in the face just as the big guy got to his feet.
All the hand-to-hand he’d endured lately prepared him for the fight that ensued. Unfortunately, his attention was split between the guy’s fist and the gun he was still waving. He knew this wasn’t going to be a fair fight, but he heard Madison retreating, so he focused every ounce of his frustration on the dickheads, praying she followed instructions.
Reese got in a few good hits, but two on one wasn’t working in his favor. He took several punches to the face, a few more to the gut that had him folding over. A couple of knees to the head had him falling to the floor, then they were landing them one right after another, ganging up on him.
He had no recourse at this vantage point, so he blocked as many punches as he could, hoping like fuck Madison made it to safety.
“Hey! Cops!” someone shouted.
It was enough to have them backing off, allowing Reese to move back, get out of range of their rib-cracking kicks. He could feel the blood pouring from his nose, felt some dripping into his eye from a cut on his forehead.
His assailants were both out of breath, making Reese feel a little better. The big guy’s eye was already swelling from where Reese had gotten in a direct hit.
Reese knew without looking that there were no cops. Two walls were solid windows, and there wasn’t a single red or blue light flashing anywhere.
Luckily, the meatheads were either too stupid or too panicked to notice.
“Where’d the bitch go?” the bigger one bit out.
“I don’t fuckin’ know,” the shorter guy said, backing his way toward the door. “Let’s get outta here, man. I ain’t goin’ down for this shit.”
The big guy wasn’t quite as eager to retreat, continuing to stare down at Reese. His beady eyes narrowed and flashed with fury. “This ain’t over. I will find her. And when I do…”
“I hear sirens, bro,” the short fucker finally said, panting like he’d run a mile. “We gotta get the hell outta here.”
The big one grinned, and that was when Reese realized the guy definitely wasn’t an amateur as he’d hoped.
When the gun lifted, aimed right for his heart, Reese saw his entire life flash before his eyes.
And the one person he thought of before he heard the gun’s report and felt the fires of hell erupt in his chest…
Brantley.
*
Although she hated to do it, Madison ran when Reese told her to. It was a cowardly reaction to the situation, but it wasn’t like she had another choice. No, she didn’t know those guys, but she could take a wild guess at who they were, who they worked for. For years now, her brother had been warning her that a rival crew was looking to take over this territory, and they were willing to do whatever was necessary to do it. But Madison hadn’t taken it seriously, and the more time that passed, the more complacent she’d gotten, refusing to believe she was in any danger.
And now this.
As she hid in the alley behind the restaurant, pressed up against the wall, hoping to keep out of sight, she tried to come up with a plan to help Reese. It was the least she could do since this was all her fault.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have a gun and she wasn’t much of a fighter, which meant she’d probably be more of a distraction than anything.
Her back went ramrod straight, and her breath lodged in her chest when she heard a loud pop, the unmistakable sound of a gunshot followed by a few panicked screams from inside the building.
“Oh, God. Oh, God.” Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs, and indecision filled her. She had to help Reese.
She looked left, looked right, gauged the distance between her location and the door she had exited.
“You can do this,” she muttered to herself, even as her feet remained rooted to the stained and greasy asphalt. “You have to do this.”
She couldn’t leave Reese in there alone, but how could she help him? Never had she felt so incredibly helpless before. Never.
Just as she was about to head back inside—she had to—a shiny black Escalade came barreling down the alley, coming to a screeching halt directly in front of her.
Her breaths slammed into her lungs as she recognized the man getting out of the driver’s seat.
“Get in, Madison.”
She glared at the enormous black man with the shiny bald head and the gleam of menace in his eyes. It was probably the most inopportune time for her body to flare to life at the mere sight of him, yet it did. It always did. Taye Smith, a.k.a. Rock, was the one man Madison had always reacted to like this.
“I’m not goin’ anywhere with you, Rock,” she hissed, glancing back at the door she’d exited through and gauging the distance.
“You won’t make it,” Rock assured her. “If you try, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and force you into this car.”
“I’m not leaving Reese. I can’t. He needs help, Rock!”
“The cops are on their way.”
Were they? Were they really? Madison had never fully trusted Rock. Not when it came to explanations, anyway. He was a liar because it was a tool of the trade. When protecting a criminal organization, it wasn’t like he could tell the truth.