Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Wyatt laughed and kept grinding.
Cassidy bristled.
“Stay calm,” God ordered.
“Oh, I’m fuckin’ calm,” he snarled under his breath, eyes locked on Wyatt’s hands. “I’m two seconds from snatching him by the back of his neck, but I’m calm.”
“I don’t think you know the definition of that word,” Day said.
“Slade, stage the convoy. Moving Starlight in five,” Cassidy said.
“Copy. Rotating to front pickup,” Slade answered.
“Tech, check exit conditions.”
“Front entrance is crowded, paparazzi-heavy. Valet is backed up,” Tech answered. “Service exit has catering traffic.”
God cut in. “We move out the front.”
Cassidy stared at Wyatt pressing his mouth toward Xander’s throat.
Xander angled his body away, ass pushed back like a girl at a middle school dance trying to keep a boy’s overzealous-virgin-cock from digging into her hip.
Wyatt had his face buried in Xander’s neck and Cassidy knew he was inhaling his fragrance.
He moved, and this time, no one stopped him as Xander argued with his co-star through clenched teeth.
Wyatt’s face changed, the sloppy grin hardening into something insulting and ugly, but Cassidy was there before Wyatt could decide what stupid thing he’d try next.
He touched Xander’s back, placing himself between them. “Let’s go.”
Xander turned toward him with relief as Wyatt let out a weak, “Hey.”
“Starlight’s mobile,” Cassidy said into comms. “Front exit. Form tight formation.”
God answered. “Copy. Lead moving.”
They crossed the club through heat, music, and bodies that didn’t want to part.
“You okay?” he asked without looking down.
“Yes.”
Lie.
They got to the front entrance with God and Day ahead of them, and Ruxs and Green right behind. Steele appeared outside the front doors and opened them when they got close.
The outside world was ridiculous.
Valet traffic lined the curb with limos, SUVs, sports cars, and impatient drivers. Paparazzi crowded behind a thin rope that wasn’t holding worth a damn. Fans clustered near the edges of the building began screaming Xander’s name.
“Slade is two vehicles back,” Tech reported.
God’s voice was calm. “Hold the bubble.”
Cassidy kept Xander at his side.
“Xander! Xander, one photo!”
“Congratulations!”
“Xander, look here!”
A young woman slipped past the rope with her phone out, trembling. “Please, just one picture. Please, you helped me so much.”
Xander nodded.
Cassidy scanned her hands. Empty except for her phone.
Xander stepped a few feet away and leaned in just enough for the photo. “Thank you for supporting the film.”
The girl sobbed a little. “Thank you.”
Cassidy watched her phone, her hands, the people behind her, the valet lane, the throng of people still trying to get across the barrier.
Something pricked at the back of his neck. He didn’t like how out in the open they were.
He began to speak his concern into comms when a squeal of tires cut him off.
Steele’s voice cracked in his ear. “Shooter! Get down!”
Cassidy reacted before the words finished, but he was still too late.
He yanked Xander away from the girl, turned his own body into the line, as the first round slammed into his lower chest like a sledgehammer. The second hit struck higher, just over his heart, driving the air out of him so hard the world flashed white at the edges. Pain detonated across his ribs and sternum, hot and brutal.
The third round burned across his shoulder.
Cassidy spun with the force of it, grabbed Xander, and took him down under him.
More shots split open the night.
Glass shattered somewhere behind them. The sidewalk vibrated as people ran in every direction, crashing into each other, men and women shouting, tires screeching as drivers panicked and tried to move through a blocked lane.
Someone fell across the back of his legs. The crowd trampled over and around him but he kept Xander sealed beneath him.
His right shoulder screamed and his chest wouldn’t expand.
Xander was yelling his name.
Cassidy heard it through the pain and ringing in his ears.
He tightened his arms, not letting Xander go, not until he knew the shooting was done.
Strong hands grabbed his jacket.
He growled without sound and locked down harder.
“Morrison!” It was God. “Move!”
He couldn’t.
For half a second, his body didn’t understand orders. It only remembered the man underneath him and the savage need to keep him alive.
Xander’s hands found his face.
“Cassie!”
That name tore through his shock.
Xander’s face was inches from his, eyes wide, red-rimmed and terrified, mouth open around his name, hands shaking in his beard.
He blinked down at him.
He’s alive.
“On your feet, Morrison,” God commanded again. “Now.”
Cassidy forced air into his lungs and pain answered.
He pushed up and the team collapsed around them.
God grabbed one side and Steele the other, hauling him upright.
Ruxs and Green were shouting and driving people back, forming a shield. Day had his gun drawn beneath his jacket, angled low, eyes sweeping the rooftops and vehicles.
The Hummer roared into the opening like a black apex predator, the rear door already open.
“Move, move, move!” God barked.
Cassidy shoved Xander in first, because nothing else mattered. He used what strength he had left to push him down and climb in over him.