Mercury Striking (The Scorpius Syndrome #1)(108)

Jax smoothly sliced the neck of the third soldier and waited for the telltale thump of a body from a few yards away. There it was. Man, Raze was good. They’d taken out four sentries already, which left eight soldiers as well as Atherton on the property—if the intel was good, and he’d bet his life the soldier Tace had tortured had given him everything. Of course, they had no idea how many Twenty members were fighting as well.

He hustled around the other side of the mansion, ready to go in the back at the signal. He’d given Sami a gas-filled bomb, rag, and matches. Taking a deep breath, he counted in his head.

An explosion rippled through the night, and then the sound of gunfire took him back to the service.

A splash behind him caught his attention, and he turned. Rapid water sounded, and then running footsteps. Somebody had been in a fucking pool? He bulldozed through a bunch of overgrown bushes to the pool and then stopped dead. Lanterns and candlelight complemented the moonlight around a large pool. Lynne floated in the middle, facedown, her hair billowing out.

The smell of chlorine burned the air. He stopped breathing. God. Lynne! He leaped across the concrete and jumped in, grabbing her and hauling her to the side.

Raze was instantly there, while the firefight continued on the other side of the mansion. He yanked her up and laid her flat.

Jax jumped from the pool and shook her. “Lynne?”

Her face was whiter than the concrete, and she was still. Too still. He pressed his ear to her chest.

Nothing.

Raze pivoted and fired into the bushes, but Jax could only see Lynne.

He set her down and blew into her mouth before starting chest compressions. He counted them out, then breathed into her mouth, and then counted again. Raze fired three more times.

Tears filled Jax’s eyes. He thumped hard on her chest, noting the vibrancy of the blue had died down. “Lynne, wake up.” He grabbed her in a hug, his face collapsing into her neck. She lay limply in his arms. Gone.

The pain cut sharper than any blade ever forged.

Heat rushed through him. “God, no.” He set her back down and thumped her chest, then breathed into her mouth. “You wake up right now. You’re not leaving me.” She couldn’t leave. Not after she’d taught him to feel again. Not now. He sobbed and hit her chest again. “Damn it, Lynne. Fucking wake up.” He pinched her nose and breathed everything he was into her mouth.

She jerked. Her eyelids flew open. Water spurted from her mouth, and she coughed, panic lighting her eyes.

He shuddered and turned her on her side. “It’s okay, baby.” His butt hit the concrete, and he patted her back. “Let it out. You’re okay.” Thank God. His damn hands shook.

Raze dropped to a knee, shooting him a look of pure relief.

Lynne stopped coughing, and Jax turned her to pull her up and into him. “You okay?” he whispered.

She spit out more water. “Atherton.”

“I know.” The wet footsteps. Jax gently laid her down. “Raze is going to cover you, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, her chest moving.

“You got this?” Raze asked.

“Yeah.” Jax stood and jogged around the pool, following the footsteps. Atherton wouldn’t ever stop coming, and with his resources, he would always be a threat to Lynne. Jax tracked him around the pool house, through a neighbor’s yard, and onto an overgrown golf course.

A bullet whizzed by his head.

He ducked and rolled, coming up just as a boot connected with his cheek. He dropped and then looked up.

Atherton stood in the weeds, the moon shining brightly down on him, his gun pointed at Jax’s head. “She’s dead, you know,” Atherton said.

Jax wiped blood from his cheek. “No, she’s not. Mouth-to-mouth saved her. My mouth.”

Atherton’s hand shook. “My mouth was on her first.”

Jax met his gaze directly, calculating the distance between them. Not good. “My mouth will be on her last.”

“You lughead,” Atherton spat out. “She’s not worth it. Not even close.”

Jax arched his foot to pull the weight off his knee. “We disagree there.”

Atherton rose to his full height. “You’d really die for her?”

Jax smiled. “Die for her? That’s the easy part, pal. I’m willing to kill the president of the United States for her.” He pushed off his back foot, rising and lunging, catching Atherton around the waist.

The gun went off, and a piercing pain ripped through Jax’s shoulder. He punched out and sent the gun whipping through the weeds. Atherton punched him in the wound.

Shock waves scorched Jax’s shoulder, and a roaring filled his ears. His hold weakened. Atherton flipped them over, drawing a silver letter opener from his back pocket. He lifted his hands high.

Jax gasped for breath, his body going numb. Then he thought of Lynne. Of the people waiting at home for him. Of his life.

Atherton struck.

Jax caught his wrist at the last moment, the letter opener pricking his larynx. Digging deep, filled with resolve, he punched up hard.

Atherton rolled off him, holding his throat.

Jax staggered to his feet, struggling to focus. Arms grabbed him from behind, holding tight, stealing his air. Pain lanced through the bullet wound in his shoulder, making him gasp. His vision hazed.

“Hello, brother,” Cruz whispered into his ear.