“Then I’ll handle things my way, love, and your backside better hope I die,” Simon said under his breath. “You have five seconds.”
“I’m done playing, Weston.” Boss Asswipe took a step forward.
And Chelsea made the only choice she really had. “I’m coming out.”
She reached under Jesse’s shirt and slid out the SIG he’d placed there. Even as she pulled it free, her thumb found the safety, clicking it off.
“Give me cover,” Simon said just as the world seemed to explode around them.
Simon pulled her to the left, taking her with him as he made his way to the wall. Jesse leapt toward the brick planter that ran all the way back to the motel office.
Chelsea immediately started firing. Cover. It didn’t matter if she hit anyone. She just needed to make them take cover for the few seconds it would take for Simon to get them to some level of safety. Her feet slapped against the concrete, hitting a rock that seemed to burrow in. Pain flared and her left thigh seized up, but Simon was there, putting his big body in front of hers and twisting around to ensure she found the safety of the wall first.
She heard him hiss as his left arm flew back.
“Oh, god, you’re hit.” She tried to drag him back, but he stood his ground.
“Watch the left flank. Shoot anyone who comes that way,” he commanded as he pulled his own piece and started firing into the parking lot.
Her leg ached and the sound of gunfire filled the air. She glanced over and saw Jesse on his knees, aiming at something she couldn’t see.
They were fucked. There was no way the cops didn’t show up. The OK Corral seemed to be playing out in the motel parking lot. Surely the police would make an appearance.
Except The Collective seemed to own the police.
Simon’s left arm was bleeding, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“We’ve got you surrounded Weston,” the boss yelled when the gunfire finally calmed a bit.
“I don’t see how. We’ve taken out half your men,” Simon replied calmly.
There was another loud bang and then Jesse’s voice rang out. “Three quarters of their men, boss. Wait. Did I do that math right? I suck at math. I’ll just kill everyone and call it a day.”
“Stay calm, Jesse,” Simon said, his voice tight.
Chelsea wasn’t sure how they got out of this without killing everyone. The bad guys weren’t backing down. She looked to her right, her back to the wall that seemed to be the only thing keeping them alive. She saw a shadow start to slink around the corner.
Chelsea fired and the shadow sank back without a scream. “Simon, I think he’s right. I think we’re surrounded.”
“I have more men on the way,” the boss said, his voice perfectly calm. “Lay down your weapons and we still might be able to come to a compromise.”
“Please let me go.” She was willing to beg him. She was willing to do just about anything to not have to watch him die. Watching him get shot had been bad enough.
“Tag is already on his way,” Simon replied. “Jesse will have shot him an emergency signal that Adam can locate us with. He’ll be here.”
She didn’t doubt they had a backup plan just in case they got surrounded by douchebags in a cheeseball motel parking lot, but she did have some questions about how quickly Ian could get here. Despite what his men thought, Ian couldn’t fly and he wasn’t faster than the speeding bullet that would soon be heading Simon’s way.
Jesse was intently keeping his eyes front. He was on one knee, aiming at whoever was in front of him, but he didn’t take a shot, which likely meant the other side had found cover, too.
There was another volley of gunfire and it was only chance that had Chelsea turn to see a man creeping up behind Jesse. He stepped out of the dingy hallway and leveled his pistol at Jesse’s head.
“Jesse!” Chelsea screamed.
In a single move, Jesse flipped his body back, hitting the man behind him squarely in the midsection. The man hit his ass with a groan as his gun clattered to the concrete, but he was seemingly well trained because he didn’t sit back and take stock. He kicked out and caught Jesse in the back, sending him flying forward where he banged against the bricks of the planter. He held on to his gun, but the man behind him wrapped a beefy arm around Jesse’s neck and tightened it.
“Shit,” Simon cursed. “Chelsea, you have to run if you get the chance. Run and hide and wait for Tag. Do you understand me?”
She nodded because she totally understood the words. The good news was he didn’t ask her if she agreed, nor did he ask if she intended to comply. Her answer to both would have been a hearty no.
Jesse was turning a frightening shade of red, but he was fighting. The man who had him in a headlock started to drag him upright. His big chest would be a massive target for the bad guys to play with.
Chelsea tried to line up a shot, but they were tangled together.
Simon took a deep breath and stepped out of his protection.
The world was filled with gunshots again, but Simon was the target now.
* * * *
He was going to leave his hand imprint on that gorgeous ass of hers. No question about it. She would live forever with his mark on her ass.
If he lived, and that was suddenly a big if. He’d already had a bullet burn against his bicep. He could still move the damn thing, but the pain made his eyes almost cross. He was certain it was just a graze, but it hurt. There wasn’t time to think about it though. They were pinned down and out of time.
Simon glanced to his right and saw that Jesse was playing dirty and very likely going into a PTSD-crazed state that would cause him no end of trouble. Jesse’s eyes had gone wild and a little glassy as he fought his attacker. He’d dropped his SIG as if he didn’t even remember he had it anymore. He managed to get his head down far enough that he could sink his teeth into his attackers forearm. There was a loud scream because Jesse wasn’t giving the bloke a little nip. Blood immediately began to flow as Jesse settled in like a pit bull who wouldn’t give up a nice treat.
Fuck. He had to keep the others off his partner because Jesse couldn’t bloody well protect himself when he was in this state. He would think only of killing the people around him because in his rage-addled brain, they all became his former captors. Eve had described it to Simon as Jesse being stuck in a waking nightmare. He really thought he was back in Iraq, fighting desperately for his life, and his senses became overwhelmed with the vision. He wouldn’t be able to see straight or think straight until someone knocked him out or managed to talk him down. He was fairly certain there wouldn’t be a lot of time to talk him down.