Page 42 of Phoenix

“Gee, I wonder why.” Jule twisted and glared at him over his shoulder. “Remembering all the girls you and your buddies hurt here? Guilt setting in?”

Tommy flicked his gaze to Marcie and hunched down. “It was just the one time.”

“Uh-huh.” Jule took a deep breath and tried to regulate his heart rate. He couldn’t stand his client, but Tommy’s cooperation meant four men who were at least as bad if not worse would face consequences for their actions. He turned back around. “We good to go, Marcie?”

“Yeah.”

They got out of the car and walked toward the warehouse.

“Weird that they don’t have security lights out here.”

“They usually do,” Tommy said.

If Jule hadn’t been so tired, he may have thought to ask more questions or suggest that Marcie call her commander, but he hadn’t seen Tor in three months, which always wore him downand made his sleep restless. Add that to having been in trial all week and now being forced to play nice with a man he wanted to kick the shit out of, and he was bone-deep exhausted.

Within moments of the warehouse door slamming shut behind them, Jule recognized his mistake. Marcie was scanning her flashlight across the wall so Jule could locate the light switch when he heard a popping sound.

“Get down!” Marcie shouted. She reached for her gun and flipped around.

Confused, Jule crouched to the floor. More shots bounced off the wall behind them, and he realized they had walked into an ambush. Jule flicked his gaze around the room, trying to figure out where the shots were coming from and if there was anywhere to hide, but the darkness made it difficult to see anything.

After that, everything happened at light speed. Tommy ran toward the door, more shots were fired, and he grunted and fell to the floor.

“Fuck.” Jule stared at Tommy’s unmoving body, his heart slamming against his chest. “Is he dead?”

“Very likely. He took two to the torso and I’m pretty sure one to the head.” Marcie was crouched beside him, holding her gun over her flashlight. “We need to take cover. Can you see anything?”

“No.”

“Stay behind me.”

Jule wanted to argue but he was unarmed and there wasn’t time so when Marcie scootched across the floor toward a shadowy mass that looked like it could provide some protection, Jule followed. She shot into the dark, presumably trying to create some sort of shield, and it almost work. Almost because they had just reached what he could now see was a tall rack filled with boxes when Marcie cried out and her gun and flashlight went flying.

“Marcie!” He grabbed her legs and pulled, trying to get her away from the open area and behind the rack.

“Take cover,” she gasped out, voice weak. “Go.”

As if he’d leave her out there vulnerable. He got her mostly tucked underneath him and stayed low to the ground as he tried to reach their best chance at safety. He realized the situation had gone from already horrible to catastrophic when she stopped fighting him off and went limp in his arms. “Hang in there, Marcie.” Bullets hit the concrete close enough to make his ears ring and cover him in dust.

And then suddenly, everything went silent. Jule looked behind him and saw a figure. Two figures actually. One behind the other. They looked to be grappling and then the one in front slithered to the ground and lay still. The one still standing walked toward him. It was nearly pitch-black and his body was flooded with panic and adrenaline, but Jule would know the shape of that body anywhere.

“Tori?” he croaked.

“Stay down.”

Tor strode over and put a gloved hand on Jule’s cheek. “Are you hit?”

He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Thank fuck.” His voice was shaky, his touch tender. “She breathing?” He inclined his head toward Marcie.

“I think so.”

Tor turned his head from left to right, scanning the room. “That’s her weapon?” He tipped his chin toward Marcie’s gun, which lay in a beam from her flashlight.

“Yes.”

“Stay there.”