Hawk (A Stepbrother Romance #3)(74)

"Shut up," Tom snaps. "Get us out of here!"

"Sir, I don't think we can outrun that thing."

"I don't care, go!"

"Jesus!" the driver shouts.

The world goes mad. The great snarling sound changes pitch and comes alongside us. I hear it dull and then roar again and the ambulance lurches, skidding to the side as it goes forward. There's a sudden shudder and it twists me on the bed, I hear the sound of shearing metal and a loud boom, then thud-thud-thud-thud, like a flat tire on pavement.

Above me a light shatters and goes out then the roof buckles, the metal squealing in protest as the drivers shout and struggle at their seat belts. Tom goes down, falling on his ass on the floor, and rises with a gun in his hand.

We're slowing down.

The stop is sudden. There's another crunch and I feel the body of the ambulance fold. I sit up a little and see a retaining wall outside, we're on an on-ramp. The ambulance has been mashed into the wall, pinned against it. The airbags up front go off with a whump and Tom turns and aims his gun and pulls the trigger.

The sound is deafening in the smashed in box of the ambulance, and it puts a cracked hole in the back window. Something moves outside and he fires again, wild, shooting through the window, then again and again. He turns around as light floods in through the front, and hot air, and a big hand on a tattooed arm grabs his wrist, pulls, aiming the gun away, at nothing. It goes off again and cracks through the windshield. Hawk yanks Tom towards the front of the ambulance and bashes his hand against the seat, forcing him to drop the gun.

I feel something hot and itchy touch my throat.

Hawk freezes. Tom is stretched out, one arm pulled towards the front of the ambulance, where Hawk is trying to pull him through the door, or was.

Tom's other hand holds his sharp little knife, pressed against my throat so I can feel the edge.

"Let go of me, Howard, or I'll slice her throat."

Hawk hesitates for just a second.

He lets go.

No, don't!

Tom sits back. He still has the knife against my throat. I can feel it. There's a little warm trickle. Oh God, he cut me, he cut my throat. My breathing quickens.

"Dad," Hawk says softly. "Get the knife away from her neck."

"No. We're going to sit here, just like this, until the police come," Tom says calmly. "You're not going to beat me, Hawk."

"If you hurt her you're dead, you hear me?" Hawk growls, "I'll f*cking kill you right here."

"Boy, you should have listened to me. I told you to stay away from her and stay out of my town. Now I'm going to have to deal with the both of you. I told you there'd be consequences if you defied me. This is it. I still have the younger one."

I jerk my head up and sink my teeth into the meat of his hand.

I'm cut, I'm cut! I'm bleeding!

I don't care, I bite down with all my strength and the knife flops out of his hand. Hawk surges into the ambulance and bowls him over. Tom's hand yanks away from my mouth and I think some of it stayed behind, and I spit a wad of blood and meat out of my teeth, heaving for breath. Hawk drives his fist into Tom's stomach, again and again, then grabs his collar, pulls him, and slams his head against the back door.

"Howard," Tom grunts out, "Howard, stop-"

Hawk rears back and hammers his fist into Tom's face, and something cracks, loud and wet. Tom whimpers.

"Hawk, stop!" he shouts, using Hawk's nickname for the first time I've ever heard.

Hawk kicks the back door open with a metal squeal. It flops out and Jennifer grabs Tom by the back of his collar and drags him out. He drops to the pavement with a yelp of pain and Jennifer stands over him, aiming her pistol down at his head.

"Get her and let's go."

"Hawk, I'm cut," I whimper. "He cut me."

Hawk spins around and leans over me.

"It's not bad. Shhh, lay still."

He looks around the inside of the ambulance, grabs a box and pulls it open. I wince as he dabs at the wound on my neck.

"He didn't get the artery. You're okay. It's just a little scratch."

It doesn't feel like a little scratch. I can't move!

Hawk presses a bandage to my throat, and I can't breathe, I rasp for air and he cradles my head in his bloody hand.

"Time to go," Jennifer says. "She going to make it?"

"She'll make it," Hawk shouts, his voice like thunder in the ambulance. "She's going to f*cking make it."

He wraps something around my neck to hold the bandage in place, then undoes the straps on my arms and legs. I can move a little, but it doesn't matter. He slips his arms under me and picks me up, and backs out of the ambulance, holding me so my head rests against his arm.

"Grab some gear from in there!" Hawk barks. "I want to put something better on her when we get in the vehicle. We gotta go."

Jennifer nods and grabs a kit with one hand while covering Tom with the other.

"What about him?"

"Fuck him. Alexis needs help."

"Okay," Jennifer says. "Got it."

Then she lifts her leg up, and with a well placed kick, breaks Tom's leg at the knee. Tom's leg just folds the wrong way and he clutches the joint, screaming.