by Kaylea Cross
Together they headed for the second floor, slowing to allow other guests ahead of them to file down the concrete steps and toward the exit on the first floor. An elderly couple wearing the resort’s robes and slippers were the first to leave the building, then a younger couple with their small daughter, followed by a middle-aged woman and her poodle.
When it was finally their turn, Ryan neared the door and glimpsed the flames at the opposite end of the building. They were already halfway up the front of it and climbing toward their room.
“We’re good.” He held the door open that led to the flagstone patio outside, watching the flames licking at the wooden exterior while Candace and the others filed past him into the open.
The moment he released the door and stepped outside, the unmistakable crack of a rifle filled the air. He froze, automatically scanning to see where it had come from.
More cracks rang out, and a bullet smashed into the front of the building two yards away from him.
Shit.
People screamed and scattered in different directions. Reacting on pure instinct, Ryan gripped his rifle and immediately turned for his wife.
Candace was already running for cover but he caught her around the ribs and took her to the ground, shielding her with his larger body, one hand wrapped around the back of her head to protect her skull from the impact.
As they hit the hard surface of the stone patio, a hot, burning pain lanced through his right upper arm and tore across his ribs.
Chapter Nine
You gotta be fucking kidding me.
Ryan bit back a growl of rage and pain as he rolled off Candace and grabbed her arm to drag her behind cover, his right hand slick already with blood as he clutched the rifle.
She scrambled up onto her hands and knees, crawling beside him while blood ran down the length of his right arm. He’d served a total of six combat tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, managed to avoid any bullet holes throughout all of them, but he wound up getting shot at a fucking resort in Montana?
So wrong.
People were still screaming and running all over the place. Someone was still out there shooting at them.
Ignoring the pain, focused on getting them to safety, he shoved to his hands and knees, dragged Candace up, and took off in a running crouch, her hand clutched tightly in his left one. Bullets slammed into the rock wall a few feet beside him, sending up a spray of razor-sharp shards.
“Go, go,” he urged her, flinging her in front of him toward safety.
Two strides from the corner of the building ahead of them, another shot splintered the air. Candace flinched and clapped a hand to her side an instant before she disappeared from view.
His heart shot into his throat. He dove around the corner just as more bullets punched into the fieldstone wall behind him where he had been only a split second before.
The instant he hit the ground, a hand grabbed him and hauled him the rest of the way behind cover. He rolled over to find Cam bending over him.
“You hit?” the PJ yelled over the chaotic noise and confusion around them.
Ryan didn’t answer, his only concern finding his wife. Turning onto his left side, he pushed up and scanned frantically for her.
She was crouched down against the stone foundation of the building, her face pale, a stream of blood trickling through her fingers as she pressed a hand to her upper left side and his anger evaporated as raw fear punched through him. “Candace.”
Her dark gaze met his, wide and startled. “I’m okay,” she blurted.
No, she wasn’t. He was already rolling to his feet, rushing for her. “She’s hit.”
“So are you,” Cam said, clamping a hand on his good shoulder and shoving him back down. “Stay the hell put so I can take a look.”
He wrenched away and opened his mouth to tell his buddy to fuck off, but Erin was already crawling her way to Candace. “I’ve got her.” She took Candace by the shoulders, saying something he couldn’t hear. Fuck, how bad was she hit?
Ryan shoved Cam away and rolled to his feet. His wife was fucking bleeding; he didn’t care about himself.
Cam let him go but followed close behind. Whoever was out there shooting was quiet now, but that didn’t mean the threat was over. Ryan crouched next to Candace, set a hand on her shoulder and cupped the side of her face with the other, the burn of his wound barely registering beneath his alarm. Her dark brown eyes were dazed, glazed with pain. “Baby…”
“No, I’m fine,” she insisted, the words choppy, her breath coming in gasps. “I’m breathing okay and I can move my arm. I don’t think it hit anything serious. What about you?” She ran her free hand down his right arm.
“I’m good.” The bullet hole stung like someone had poured fucking battery acid into it, but he could still move his arm so he figured it wasn’t broken, even if parts of it had gone numb and some of his muscles were weak.
He rubbed her back with his left hand, feeling helpless. God, if he’d even for one moment thought there might be a threat waiting for them outside, he never would have exited the building like that.
Erin already had Candace’s sweater up and was examining the wound just under the edge of her shoulder blade. She’d worked at Craig Joint Theater Hospital at Bagram for multiple tours, and had seen every kind of trauma case imaginable. “It’s still in there, buried under the edge of her scapula. Must have been a ricochet.” She looked up into Candace’s face. “Do your ribs hurt when you breathe?”
She shook her head. “Not really.”
Erin nodded. “Anywhere else hurt? Your shoulder blade?”
“I said I’m fine.” She thrust out her right hand toward him. “Now give me a damn weapon so I can shoot back at these assholes.”
Ryan slipped a hand around her nape and leaned in to plant a hard kiss on her mouth. “You got it.”
Erin glanced at him. “She’ll be okay. I’ll try to dig the bullet out and get the bleeding stopped as best I can until we can get clear.”
Ryan nodded, shrugged off his pack, and dug out his pistol. After slamming in a fresh magazine, he handed it to Candace. If the shooters maintained their distance, it wouldn’t do her much good, but at least she’d feel better being armed.
Now that he wasn’t frozen with terror that his wife was going to die, he scanned the others, all hidden behind this low retaining wall running the length of this side of the building.
Wade was on his phone, probably talking to the cops, rifle in his free hand. Ryan grabbed ammo from his pack and loaded his rifle. His right upper arm and the back of his hand were numb, the bullet wound burning like fire.
Rolling to his belly, he crawled his way over to where Jackson lay near the end of the protective wall with his own weapon trained toward the shooters. Maya was right next to him with her service pistol, searching for a target.
As he neared them, the back of Ryan’s neck prickled. All eight of them were now pinned down behind this low rock wall with an unknown number of shooters out there, making them one giant, fat target.
They couldn’t stay here. He and everyone else with a rifle had to lay down covering fire while the others spread out and found a better defensive position.
Ryan bit back a grunt of pain as he nestled the stock of his weapon against his right shoulder, pressing his right cheek to it to stare through the scope. The night vision device would enable him to see a potential target in the darkness, but it wasn’t as good as having NVGs.
“See any muzzle flashes?” he asked the others, aware of the blood that continued to run down his arm, puddling on the flagstone beneath his bent elbow.
“A couple at one o’clock a few seconds ago,” Maya answered. Then to Jackson, “I hit one, but I don’t think he’s down. Got anything?”
“Not yet,” he answered, his Texas drawl making his voice seem even calmer.
Wade made his way over to crouch on one knee beside them. “How we looking?”
“No targets yet,” Ryan answered. Who the hell
had opened fire on them?
“Cops are on the way and I just got off a call with MacKenzie. He’s alerting the local Feds and is on his way here with his brother. Said he’s bringing backup.”
Well, until then, they were on their own. “We gotta get the hell out from behind this wall,” Ryan muttered. Who knew how many shooters there were, and what kind of weapons they had? It made his skin crawl to stay here another second.
“Yeah,” Wade muttered, putting his eye to his scope.
Quickly they came up with a plan. Candace still held the pistol tight in her right hand, her expression intent as Erin did what she could to stop the bleeding.
Ryan wanted to haul her into his arms and not let go but he couldn’t until this threat was neutralized. He loved his wife so damn much, respected how strong and brave she was. He couldn’t stand to lose her, wanted to have a family with her someday. She was everything to him.
“You and Erin get to cover while we divert them,” he said to her. “Maya and Dev, you’ll cover them while we head out.”
Both women nodded once, gazes trained on the darkness beyond. “Got it,” Maya answered.
“Ready?” he asked the guys. They all nodded.
On his three count, Ryan and Wade burst out from behind the wall, firing spaced shots across the patio toward where the shooting had come from. Cam, Jackson, and Maya laid down covering fire for them as he and Wade sprinted to the relative protection of the water feature on the opposite side.
Flashes of light burst in the darkness and rounds slammed into the rocks in front of them. Bleeding and royally pissed off by this point, Ryan ducked around the corner of the fountain and caught sight of one of the shooters in his scope. He aimed and fired two shots, hitting him center mass. The guy cried out and fell.
“One shooter down,” he said to Wade, wishing he had comms with the others so they knew what was going on.
“I saw two more moving northeast.”
Swiveling around, Ryan waved to signal the others and Jackson signaled back. They were ready. He faced forward again, searching through his scope for another target. He and Wade began firing again, laying down covering fire so the rest of their group could move.
“We’re clear,” Cam called out a minute later.
Ryan’s heart rate eased and when he looked back there was no one left behind the wall. Candace was now out of sight behind solid cover with Erin to treat her wound, and Dev and Maya were both armed as well. She was in good hands, and as safe as he could make her for the moment.
Now he and the guys had to hunt down the rest of these bastards before anyone else got hurt.
He signaled to Cam and Jackson, hiding behind the end of a short brick wall that separated the patio from the garden, then resumed firing to keep the shooters at bay and give the PJs time to join him and Wade.
Thirty seconds later, Cam and Jackson reached them, rifles to their shoulders and ready to rock.
“Two more shooters moving to the northeast,” he told them. “We’ll go in pairs. Wade and I’ll take the right, you two take the left.”
“Roger that,” Jackson murmured, eye to his scope.
He and Wade peeled off and started across the north lawn while Cam and Jackson covered them. They stopped behind a decorative rock formation in the middle of the grass and covered the other guys, then kept leapfrogging their way toward where the shooters had been.
The one Ryan had hit was gone, but there was a blood trail for them to follow, though it was hard to see with just his scope to aid them in the darkness.
Either the shooter was still mobile or someone else was dragging him. No matter what, he couldn’t have gone far.
Ducking around the tree he was hiding behind, Ryan jerked back when a bullet struck the trunk, sending up a hail of splinters.
Wade immediately fired from Ryan’s left. “Got him.”
Good. Two down. “See anyone else?”
“Nope.”
“Anything?” he called out to Cam and Jackson.
“Negative,” Cam answered.
There could be more than two remaining shooters out here, but if they were lucky, maybe not.
Then, in the distance, came the sound of an engine roaring to life. He eased around the tree trunk and scanned the terrain with his scope. A flash of movement caught his attention.
Zeroing in on it, he saw someone driving away on an ATV. “One target on an ATV moving northwest. Can’t get a clear shot through the trees.”
“I see him,” Wade muttered. “No shot though.”
And it wasn’t like they could catch up to him on foot either. Dammit.
“Contact, ten o’clock,” Jackson said to their left.
Ryan swung the barrel of his weapon toward the new target and caught sight of a man running between the trees. He was cradling his arm, seemed to be struggling. “I got him. Cover me.”
Stepping out from behind the relative protection of the tree, he rushed forward. Behind him he could hear Wade following. On silent feet he moved over the short-cut grass and into the trees, knowing the others had his back.
He lost sight of the target for a moment, then the wounded man burst out from behind a stand of trees. He stumbled, went down on one knee, and it was the break Ryan needed.
Ryan raced straight at him. “Drop your weapon and put your fucking hands up!”
The man grabbed his weapon and whipped around, trying to raise it in time to get a shot off.
Ryan’s hands were rock steady, the pain barely noticeable now as he aimed the barrel of his rifle at the target and fired.
The man shouted and dropped to his back, his weapon lying on the ground. Ryan’s boots pounded over the carpet of fallen leaves as he ran for the man. When he reached the man he kicked the fallen rifle away, aiming his own at the guy at point blank range.
The shooter had half turned onto his side, his breathing ragged and uneven. “Don’t…don’t kill me,” he rasped out, grimacing as he struggled to bring his hands up.
Wade moved in like a deadly shadow to search him for weapons, then grabbed the guy by the front of his camo fatigues and shook him once. “Who the fuck are you and why did you attack us?” he growled.
“Or…orders,” the man said, voice weak.
Ryan wasn’t exactly sure where he’d hit the guy, but from the raspy breathing it sounded like he’d gotten the guy in the lung. If they didn’t get what they needed to know out of him now, they probably weren’t going to. “Whose orders?” he demanded.
“Boss…”
Wade let him drop back to the ground with a dull thud and leaned over him. “March?”
Something flared in the man’s eyes at the mention of the name, then he closed them. “Orders…”
Wade shot Ryan a hard look and pushed to his feet.
“You get him?” Cam’s voice called out.
“Yeah, we’re good. Any other targets?”
“Just the one on the ATV.”
Ryan stared down at the nearly unconscious man. “Let’s get him back to the resort. If we can stabilize him, the cops might be able to get more information out of him.”
“I got him.” Wade handed Ryan his weapon and bent to hoist the wounded man over his shoulders.
“Let’s get back,” Ryan said, anxious to get back to Candace and report what they’d found.
When he rushed into the resort’s main building and through the lobby to the lounge ten minutes later, all sweaty from the run and a little chilled from blood loss, he found all the guests huddled together there. Maya and Devon were standing guard with two male resort employees. Where was Candace?
His heart squeezed when he spotted her off to one side of the room with her grandma, still wearing that blood-stained T-shirt, his pistol in her hand. A staggering wave of relief hit him, then she gave a little smile and started toward him.
He met her halfway and caught her around the back in a tight, one-armed hug, careful not to touch her wound and totally ignoring her grandma, hovering at h
er side. “Sweetheart, you okay?” He buried his sweaty face in her hair, breathing her in. She was safe. That was all that mattered.
She nodded and hugged him with her right arm, pressing frantic kisses against his throat and jaw. “Yes, but you’re bleeding pretty bad.”
“I’ll take care of that,” Jackson said, coming up beside him with a first aid kit. “Hold still and let me at least patch you up for the time being.”
Ryan stood still and let Jackson do his thing, biting back a wince as he probed at the wound. “Did it go through?”
“Yeah. Right through your tricep and then along your side for a few inches.”
That would explain why his arm and the spot just under it burned so bad, from all the torn-up tissue.
Candace dragged her gaze from the wound and up to his face, her expression pinched with worry. “You’re not okay.”
He kissed the bridge of her nose, her mouth. “I’m good. More worried about you.”
She shook her head. “I was lucky, Erin says it only hit skin and muscle. She managed to dig out the bullet, give me a few stitches, and bandage me up. I’m not even bleeding anymore, just sore.” She reached for his left hand, her cold fingers wrapping around it tight. “Can you still use your arm?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” He didn’t tell her about the numbness or loss of grip strength because there were more important things to worry about at the moment. “Love you.”
“Love you too.” She cupped the side of his face in her hand. “Did you get them?”
“We got three of the shooters, but the fourth got away on an ATV.”
Wade waved them over, tucking his cell phone back into his pocket. “MacKenzie’s almost here, and apparently he’s got a big lead. We’re supposed to meet him on the front lawn in two minutes.” He glanced at Jackson as the PJ shoved something into the wound.
Ryan sucked in a breath and gritted his teeth, his vision wavering for a second at the swift, sudden burn.
Wade frowned at him. “You still good to go?”
“Yes,” he said between his teeth.
Leaving the rest of the guests behind with the resort security, who were scrambling to secure the scene, Ryan took Candace’s hand and walked with the others to the front entrance and out onto the lawn where the resort security had set up a perimeter. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight even for a moment. Cops and fire trucks were just showing up on scene.
