Hold On (The 'Burg #6)(193)

He jerked me to the door. He opened the door. He kicked the storm and the glass shattered.

He put the gun to my head and walked me out, our feet crunching on glass.

He held me in front of him like a shield.

I could feel the cold metal against my temple.

But all I could see was Merry standing in my yard.

His gun was up, his eyes on me.

He was there.

Of course he was there.

He took care of me.

“Lower your weapon!” I heard Mike shout.

It was just a flicker of movement, but I knew Merry’s eyes were now on Jones.

“Lower your weapon and step away from Ms. Rivers!” I heard Sully yell.

“Her first,” Jones shouted to Merry. “Then you.”

Gun still up, Merry’s eyes stayed locked to Jones.

“You got a bead?” I heard Tanner ask.

I swallowed.

He’d take care of me. He was there. Right there. In my yard.

He loved me.

We’d finally found happy.

He’d take care of me.

I had to believe.

He was Merry, my Merry.

I had to believe.

I stayed focused on Merry.

Merry stayed focused on Jones.

His head barely moved, but it did.

In an affirmative.

I braced.

“Hold on,” Merry said.

That was for me.

And I did what I was told.

I held on and believed.

Jones shifted minutely.

“Take the shot!” Colt roared.

Merry’s gun exploded.

I screamed when the blood spatter hit my face.

Jones fell.

Chapter Twenty-Six

People Like Us

Cher

Marksmanship trophies.

Oh yeah, my man was badass.

“I love you,” I called, standing on my stoop, a dead man at my feet.

Merry lowered his gun.

“No shit?”

I pressed my lips together because that was the least romantic thing a man could say in this situation (or any situation), just as it had been the last time he’d said it.

But still, I was this close to crying.

Because I was alive to hear him say it.

(Not to mention, he’d just shot a man in the head for me.)

I controlled the tears.

Then I turned and raced into the house.

“Cher!” Colt called.

“Ryker! He’s been shot!” I shouted back while I sprinted through my living room.

I hit my knees on a slide right through a puddle of blood toward Ryker in my kitchen. When I stopped, I twisted, doing it awkwardly to get my hands, which still were tied behind me, on Ryker to see if I could find a pulse.

“Please have a pulse. Please, badass motherf*cker, have a goddamned pulse,” I begged, searching for it.

“Man down. Send paramedics to our position. GSW,” Merry said.

I looked to him to see him moving swiftly into my kitchen, his phone to his ear.

“Three,” I told him. “Three of them.”

Merry’s eyes flared.

“He’s been hit three times,” he said into his phone. “Unconscious. Significant loss of blood.”

I lost sight of Merry behind me. Then my wrists were lifted, I heard the snap of a knife cutting through plastic, and my wrists were freed.

I turned, going back for Ryker’s pulse as Merry shifted, crouching across from me, shoving my hand aside and reaching in himself.

Colt, Mike, Tanner, Cal, and Sully came into my kitchen.

“Shit,” Sully whispered, eyes to Ryker.

Colt got close and crouched.

“Pulse. Weak,” Merry muttered. “Cher, get some towels.”

Pulse.

Weak.

Thank God.

I moved out. Mike moved in. By the time I got back with towels, they had Ryker on his back.

Men nabbed towels from me, went for a wound, and pressed.

I felt a hand on my arm and looked up at Cal.

He had one of my kitchen towels. He turned into me and his eyes watched his hand as he wiped blood off my face. He didn’t take a lot of time doing it before he caught my chin with his fingers and looked into my eyes.

“You good?” he asked.

I nodded.

He studied me.

Then he grinned. “Tough chick.”

“You bet your ass.”

He shook his head and dropped his hand.

I started to move to Ryker, catching sight of Tanner as I did.

There wasn’t a lot of room, especially with Ryker’s big body sprawled on my floor, but Tanner was pacing what was left of it, eyes glued to his bud, movements agitated, face set in stone.

They were tight, Tanner and Ryker. And don’t ask me how I knew, I just knew that Tanner was fighting the urge to drill the body on my stoop with more holes.

I went to Ryker’s head and got to my knees. Lifting his head gently, I slid my thighs under it to act as a pillow.

“Merry?” I called.

Merry looked from Ryker to me. “Yeah, Cherie?”

“Jones said he shot Ryan.”

Merry’s mouth got hard and he looked to Colt.

Colt looked to Sully.

Sully pulled out his phone and stepped out of my kitchen.

I turned my attention to Ryker.

“You’re good, brother,” I told him, curling my hands around his neck. “You’re good. You have to be. Alexis is boy crazy and someone has to protect her from teenage pregnancy, and you are the walking, talking anecdote for any boy who wants to get in a girl’s pants, if that girl’s your daughter, that is.”