Page 6 of Playing with the Devil

“Are you going to answer my question?” I asked, and even with her knees buckling she kept her mouth shut, hands trembling at her sides.

Irritation soared through my body and I turned, taking in the crowd.

“Where’s my fucking wife?” I bellowed, my tone gripping their spines and forcing them to straighten up.

Just then, a bullet sliced past my ear, missing me by an inch and when I glanced in the direction from which it came, my blood ran cold. Top of the stairs. Crouching between the railing.

My fingers curled into a fist at my side, adrenaline pumping in my veins. I grinned. “There she is.”

Bullets wrung through the air. Screams echoed in the distance. Glass shattered all around. But, my eyes were on her.

Charging for the stairs with my weapon clutched in my hand she shifted, shooting at me again and I leaped forward, taking cover behind the wall. A fucking shot gun, tesoro?

Each bang grew louder and more rapid than the last as her bullets pierced the wall shielding me. With liquid heat swirling in my veins I stuck my gun out and pulled the trigger, watching her jump behind a wooden table that had been tossed on its side.

The deafening metallic blast of my gun filled the air as I stepped out from the wall, decorating the table with holes.

Her body only appeared for a second before she bolted down the hall and I sprinted up the stairs but was immediately intercepted by two gunmen.

I clutched my gun but was disabled by an elbow to the face. My head flew back and with an irritable groan I gripped the front of his shirt, sending three continuous blows to his jaw before shoving him back and his body lolled to the side, collapsing with a thud.

The second gunman’s gaze snapped to me—green eyes wide with an SMG still clutched in both hands, pointed at me.

Without hesitation I drew my handgun, sending two shots right to his gut. Worthless motherfucker. My men wouldn’t have hesitated.

He laid like a pile of bones as I stepped over his body, eyes searching for one specific brunette.

Hurrying down the hallway shots rang through the air and I ducked before slipping behind a wall to dodge the spray of bullets from what sounded like a fucking machine gun. Oh, she’s going to suffer.

After reloading my gun, I made my way down the narrow hallway until an armed figure rounded the corner and with a strike to his throat he choked, stumbling back and I put two bullets between his eyes.

Large hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me back but I dropped my gun, reaching back to pull him over my shoulder and slammed him into the ground.

I almost missed his groan as my legs wrapped around his upper body, securing him in a headlock before snapping his neck to the left.

His body went limp and when the slight creak behind me caught my attention, I gripped my gun, whipped around and fired.

Crimson painted the once spotless white tiles as chaos unfolded.

Frustration curled around my spine. I rose to my full height, reloading my AK as I entered what looked like a common area filled with couches, a large coffee table and a fireplace that had been burning.

But the smell of smoke wasn’t what caught my attention. It was the perfume. A mixture of jasmine, amber wood and fucking cedar. I’d know that scent anywhere.

My eyes trailed the room until a figure appeared in my peripheral and I immediately fired, watching her duck and sprint across the room, heading out.

She glanced back just for a second before shooting back at me but I slammed my back against the wall for cover, and she disappeared around the corner.

Gunfire tore through the walls, and furniture was shattered as we relentlessly pursued each other from room to room.

A large part of me knew this fight wasn’t just physical. Each shot fired and every attempt to gain the upper hand reflected the anger soaring in my veins, the betrayal consuming my thoughts, and frustration that had plagued my entire being.

When I caught up to her I reached forward, grabbing a handful of her hair before yanking her back to the floor.

Her expression was cold. Determined. But I knew her, and beneath her composure there were flashes of regret and anger.

With a heaving chest I turned to face her but she placed both feet on my chest, knocking me back with full force and I crashed into the wall, the back of my head colliding with the concrete.

I groaned, watching her scurry up through blurred vision before she was back on the run, heading for the staircase.