Slow Agony (Assassins, #2)(75)

We watched as two of the men came into the woods several feet away from us.

Griffin pointed. “Go that way, make a bunch of noise.”

“Really?” I said.

“Like it’s going to be hard for you,” he said. “You’re loud in the woods.”

I glared at him.

“Go already.”

I got up and started in the direction Griffin had pointed. I unintentionally made intensely loud thrashing noises. He was right, goddamn it. Why couldn’t I be quiet like he was?

“There!” yelled one of the men.

The crack of a gunshot.

A bright burst of pain in my ankle. I stumbled and fell, gritting my teeth at the pain.

They’d freaking shot me. Was this part of Griffin’s plan?

“Got her.” The two men ran towards me, making even more noise than I had.

I saw Griffin leap on one of the men, snapping his neck.

The man fell to the ground.

The other man turned, bewildered. Seeing the other guy dead beside him, he brandished his gun.

Griffin kicked it out of his hand. He tackled the man and knocked him onto his back.

Griffin crawled on top of him. “Get me his gun, doll.”

I started to crawl, but it hurt. “I’ve been shot, baby.”

“Oh,” he said. “Right.” He wrapped his hands around the man’s neck. “Better not to shoot you, anyway. Too noisy.” He squeezed.

The man’s eyes bulged.

“Do you think they’ve been given the serum?” I asked.

Griffin padded the guy down, finding a knife in his pants’ pocket. “Better cut their spines to be sure, huh?”

I cradled my wounded ankle in my hand while Griffin slashed the backs of their necks.

Then he came over to me. He knelt down and inspected the shot. It was bleeding pretty heavily.

“It went through and through,” Griffin said. “You’ll be fine. You’re going to heal up in a few minutes.”

“It hurts,” I said, sticking out my lower lip.

He drew me into his arms. “I’m sorry I got you shot, doll.”

I laid my head on his chest. “You better be sorry.”

He kissed the top of my head.

But he was right. I could already tell that it was healing.

“Hey!” yelled Marcel’s voice. “What the hell? I heard a shot out there. You hit anything?”

“False alarm,” called Griffin, changing his voice to sound more like the men’s. “We’re going deeper into the woods.”

“Motherf*cker,” Marcel yelled back.

Griffin picked up the gun the man had dropped. “You take this. Think you can walk yet?”

I tested my weight against my ankle. I flinched. “Not yet.”

“Okay,” he said. He pointed. “You can see the porch from here?”

I nodded.

“One of the guys is going to walk around outside in a minute. You think you can hit him?”  “Um...” I wasn’t sure if I could. “If I don’t, does it ruin everything?”

“You can do it,” he said. “I watched you practice with Sloane. You got this. Just stay loose and remember to breathe, okay?” He kissed me on the forehead again. Then he picked up the other man’s gun and darted away.

I took several deep breaths, raising the gun and pretending to aim.

I heard Griffin’s voice. “Hey Mick.”

And, sure enough, a man walked around the porch, right into the spot Griffin said he would. “Who is that?”

I aimed at Mick, lining up his head in the crosshairs of my gun. I could do this. Okay. Relax. Stay loose. Breathe.

“It’s me,” said Griffin.

Um, maybe not his head. Maybe his torso. I realigned.

“What?” said Mick.

I pulled the trigger.

Mick yelled, his hand going to his neck.

The bullet had only grazed him. Dammit. I got to my feet, aiming the gun again. I could do this.

But Mick was getting out his own gun. “I see you, blondie.”

Fuck. He could see me? I lined up his torso again. I breathed. I eased my finger onto the trigger.

The shot rang out.

Mick’s body jerked. He felt forward, off the porch.

“Nice shot, doll.” Griffin dashed across the lawn, knife glinting. He knelt next to Mick, cutting at the back of his neck.

I crashed out of the woods to join him.

“What the hell is going on out there?” Marcel and the remaining man were coming out on the porch.

I stopped moving, took careful aim, and squeezed off two more shots.

Marcel and the man both stopped where they were, falling lifeless.

Holy crap. I’d just shot them both in the head.

Griffin raised his eyebrows at me. “Whoa. That was awesome.”

My mouth was wide open. “I don’t know how I did that.”





Chapter Fifteen


The other man was dead. I’d cut the back of his neck while Griffin tied up Marcel. We didn’t want Marcel dead yet.

That was why he was tied to the hook in the basement now, stretched out in front of us.

We were waiting for him to wake up.

Griffin had Marcel’s switchblade. He kept flipping the knife out, pushing it back in and then flipping it back out again.