Full Contact (Redemption #3)(18)

“What’s going on?” Slim appears in the doorway to the back room, and Ray motions him away. But he’s too late. Two shots crack the stillness and Slim goes down.

“No.” I try to push Ray away so I can get to Slim. But Ray drops his weight, holding me still.

“Stay down. Don’t know who they are or what they want, but they don’t seem to care who they kill. You’re going out the rear exit. Crawl or slide on your belly. Stay under the chairs until you get to that couch at the back. When you need to cross the floor, I’ll cover you. Once you’re out, call for help.”

“I’ll call Tag.”

Bullets ring out around us. A mirror shatters. “911,” says Ray. “Then Tag.”

“Tag. I need Tag.”

His voice drops, calm and even. “911. Then Tag. If he can’t get here in five minutes, that call will kill him, and Slim needs medical attention.”

“What about you?”

“Gotta stay with Slim. I’ll meet you out back. Go.”

My mom didn’t raise any fools. Heart pumping, I slither under the chairs, staying close to the wall and under the ledge. When I reach the couch, Ray gestures me forward, then jumps up and shoots over the couch. Gritting my teeth, I crawl toward the door leading to the private ink rooms, staff room, and supply room out back. Thankfully, Slim has fallen back into the hallway, out of the line of fire. The soldier is with him, holding a wadded cloth to his shoulder.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“If we can get an ambulance here right away. You got a phone? I left mine in the treatment room and he needs pressure on the wound.”

“Yeah.” My voice wavers. “In my pocket.”

His face softens. “It’s gonna be okay. Took a quick look when the shooting started and the guy out there knows what he’s doing. He’ll keep us covered until the police get here. You get out. Call 911. I’ll stay with Slim.”

After a moment of hesitation, I give Slim a kiss on the cheek, then race down the hallway and out the back door. Leaning against a Dumpster, I pull my phone from my pocket and call 911. Then I call Tag.

His anguished cry almost breaks my heart. He is at least half an hour away. But Ray was right. He maintains his sanity only because I’ve told him I’ve already called 911.

Too afraid to leave the alley in case the shooters are still out front, I curl up beside the Dumpster, my nose wrinkling at the pungent odor of stale piss and rotting garbage. My heart continues to pound and I take deep, calming breaths as the wail of sirens grows louder and louder. Tires screech. Doors slam. Voices. Shouting.

“Sia.” Ray rounds the corner from the alley leading to the street and runs toward me. Relief crashes over me and I shoot up from my hiding spot. Before I can stop myself, I’m in his arms.

For a long moment, we hold each other. Alone and out of sight. His warmth soaks into me, his arms tighten around me, and I breathe in his scent of sweat and soap, and the essence of him as he engulfs me with his body. The world fades away and we are completely still, connected, breathing together, our hearts pounding together. Despite the shouts and sirens, the barking of what must be a police dog, I feel safe—completely and utterly safe, in a way I have not felt since that terrible night when I went to a party Tag had warned me not to attend.

Finally, I manage to tilt my head back. Ray is watching me, his gaze intense, his face tight with an emotion I can’t identify.

“Sia.” My name comes out with the breath that releases the tension in his body. “You’re safe.”

Whether his words are meant as an assurance to me or to him, I don’t know, but his stillness moves me. Ray is a man always in motion, like the Predator for which he was named.

“Are you okay?”

He nods. “Hit one of them in the leg, but they got away. Medics are looking after Slim. He’ll be fine. Bullet just grazed his shoulder, and he hit his head going down.”

“Did you see who they were?”

“Street gang. Nasty one. I recognized the colors and tattoos. Don’t think they were there to kill anyone, just give a warning by shooting up the shop. Slim got in the way.” His jaw tightens. “Someone in the shop must have done something to piss them off pretty bad.”

“Jay, one of our senior artists. He left Slim a message saying he had to lie low and couldn’t come to work. I didn’t really take it seriously, but Rose did. She said he’d even inked some of them.”

Ray scowls. “Anything to do with the street gangs is serious. Bastard should have known better than to let them know where he worked. Put you in danger. Next time I see him, I’ll give him an ass kicking he’ll never forget.”

His ferocity makes me smile. “Will he be able to work after you’re done?”

“You want him to work?” His voice softens.

“Yeah. I’m not really into revenge.”

“What are you into?” His gaze drops to my lips, and I am suddenly and painfully aware of his body pressed tightly against mine, his arms around me, and his heartbeat quickening, as if it’s oblivious to the fact the danger has passed. I’ve never been this close to him, never seen his eyes so dark, never imagined I would feel the power thrumming through his body. Because aren’t predators supposed to kill?

Unspent adrenaline screams through my veins, turning my legs liquid. I ache with a desire I shouldn’t feel. A painful, desperate hunger for a man I should not want—a man whose violent nature both arouses and frightens me.