David swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I—I couldn’t get to them,” he stammers. “I already had to kill someone just to grab these two. I couldn’t get anyone else without fighting the whole club.”
Naomi just stares at him, her expression blank. Then, slowly, her smile returns, all teeth and no warmth.
“Ah, Davey,” she says, her voice honey-sweet now. “I understand. You did good, bringing me these two.” She gestures toward Kayla and Molly. “I promised you a big reward for them, didn’t I?”
David relaxes visibly, his shoulders dropping as he nods. “You did.”
Before he can say another word, Naomi pulls a gun from the waistband of her jeans and fires. The sound is deafening in the confined space of the warehouse, and David crumples to the floor, a look of stunned betrayal frozen on his face as blood spreads across his chest.
“You psychotic bitch!” Molly screams, lunging forward despite her bound hands. One of Naomi’s men yanks her back by her hair.
“Molly, don’t,” Kayla hisses, her eyes wide with fear. “Just stay quiet.”
Naomi turns back to us, the gun now dangling casually from her fingers. “Now, where were we?”
Before she can say another word, shots ring out from somewhere behind us. Diesel, standing closest to Naomi, jerks and falls, blood spurting from his throat. Crusher goes down half a second later, his massive body crashing to the concrete floor with a sound like a falling tree.
Naomi whirls around, searching for the source of the shots, her earlier cockiness replaced by panicked confusion. Her men are equally disoriented, their guns swinging wildly as they try to locate the hidden shooter.
It’s the opening we need.
Dragon and I lock eyes for a split second, a wordless plan passing between us. Then we’re all moving, Dragon and Gray toward Naomi’s men, me toward Kayla. Demon is right beside me, and he tackles Molly to the ground, shielding her body with his own as more shots tear through the warehouse.
Just as I reach Kayla, Naomi spins back around, her gun rising, but I’m there first. My fist connects with her jaw in a brutal punch that sends her sprawling backwards, her head hitting the concrete floor with a sickening thud, the gun flying from her hand.
I grab her by the front of her shirt, hauling her halfway up before driving my fist into her face again. Blood spurts from her nose, her head snapping back with the force of the blow. I let her drop, turning immediately to Kayla.
I drop to the ground beside Kayla, covering her body with mine as bullets whiz overhead. She’s trembling beneath me, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper fiercely in her ear. “I’ve got you, Sunshine.”
All around us, the warehouse erupts into chaos. The rest of Dragon’s men burst through the doors, guns blazing. The Rejects return fire, but they’re caught in a deadly crossfire, trapped between our two groups. Men are falling, and the concrete floor is growing slick with blood.
Through the haze of gun smoke and flying bullets, I catch a glimpse of someone taking cover behind an industrial barrel across the warehouse, someone who doesn’t belong in this hellish scene. Todd, of all people, crouching with a gun in his hands, firing with practiced precision before ducking back behind cover.
I don’t have time to process this strange sight. My only focus is Kayla, keeping her alive, making sure no stray bullet finds her. I press her closer to the ground, my body arched protectively over hers, willing myself to be bulletproof.
The firefight is over almost as quickly as it started. The last Reject falls, and an eerie silence descends on the warehouse, broken only by the moans of the wounded and the drip of blood on concrete.
I raise my head cautiously, scanning the area. Dragon is on his feet, his gun still raised as he checks for any remaining threats. Demon is helping Molly sit up, his voice uncharacteristically gentle as he murmurs something to herwhile she takes deep shuddering breaths. Gray is already moving among the fallen Rejects, checking for survivors.
And then I see her. Naomi, crawling away on her hands and knees, blood streaming from her nose and mouth where I hit her. She looks small now, broken, nothing like the manic figure who stood on the catwalk taunting us.
I rise to my feet, drawing my gun. Dragon looks over at me, a question in his eyes. I give him a single nod and start walking toward Naomi. My footsteps echo in the suddenly quiet warehouse.
Behind me, I hear Demon, his voice casual as if we’re discussing the weather. “You sure I can’t do the honors, Roman? I’ve been dreaming about this moment for a very long time.”
I ignore him, my focus entirely on Naomi as she rolls over, looking up at me with blood-smeared lips and wide eyes.
“Roman,” she says my name like a prayer this time.
I pull the trigger.
The sound of the gunshot seems to hang in the air for a moment, and then it’s over. Naomi’s body goes limp, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. I feel nothing as I look down at her; not satisfaction, not relief, not even disgust. Just a hollow emptiness where my rage used to be.
“Roman.”
Kayla’s voice pulls me back to myself. I turn to see Gray finishing cutting the zip ties from her wrists, the sharp blade of his knife making quick work of the plastic restraints. Molly is already free, standing next to Demon as he rubs her chafed wrists.