59. Fable

Chapter 59

Fable

G unfire rings out and I scream, ducking my head even as Colt tackles me to the ground. Rhett grunts in pain, but he doesn't go down. When he turns to command us to run, I get a good look at his arm where blood starts to drip down it. He clamps his hand over the wound.

"Move!" he snarls. "Go!"

I scramble clumsily to my feet and Colt half drags me, half carries me toward the garage. Trent steps out as we head that way, a large shotgun in his hands. It booms as he fires it, sending all the men climbing from the black cars to take cover.

Gunnar comes sliding around the stables, his eyes wide. "Callie!" he shouts as the men turn toward the big house. He rushes forward but gets haymakered by a man none of us had seen.

"Gunnar!" I scream, but Colt holds me back when I try to rush toward him.

"Fuck!" Rhett says. He pulls his phone from his pocket and hesitates. "Fuck," he rasps, as if whatever he's about to do is going to cause more trouble than we're already in. He hits dial and holds the phone to his ear. Someone must answer on the other line because he barks into the phone, "We're under attack. Your investment is jeopardized." And then he hangs up and shoves the phone back into his pocket.

Jethro appears in the yard, and I scream for him when he lunges for one of the men. At my scream, he stops and immediately sprints toward us. One of the men raise their gun and aim for the border collie and I scream bloody murder, prepared to throw myself out there for the dog, but Trent raises the shotgun and fires again, catching the man in the face and sending him to the ground screaming. Jethro slides to a stop into the garage and I hug him close as he whines.

The big house doors open and the man who talked first steps out, Callie in his arms. I gasp the same time as Gunnar starts screaming where he lies pinned on the ground, a gun in his face.

I smack at Colt when Trent swears and raises his shotgun again.

"I can't fire this without hitting Callie," he rasps.

Colt reaches for his hip and pulls out his own handgun. He takes aim. "I'm not nearly this good of a shot," he jerks. "I can't risk it."

"If we don't fire, she dies," Rhett growls. "Fuck!" He grabs me and kisses me hard. "Don't be a hero, Wild West Barbie. That's my job."

And then he steps out of the garage with his arms up.

I scream and reach for him, but he's too far out and Colt drags me back.

"Stop," Rhett says. "Let her go and you can have me. I'm the one who made the deal. Remember?"

The man's lip curls up. He jerks Callie around and she cries, trying to pry at his arm around her shoulders. "What lesson is there if I kill you?" he asks. "I think it's better to make sure the lesson is learned."

"I learned it," Rhett growls. "You win. I get it. Just let her go."

The man narrows his eyes. "I don't think I will. You assholes have been playing games. Well, now I'm playing games, too." He lifts the gun to her head, and I pry at Colt's arms, trying to get out there and save her, trying to give someone else time to react. Everything slows. My ears start ringing as I scream, fighting against Colt's hold. Gunnar screams on the ground, fighting against the men holding him, but getting nowhere. This is it. Callie is going to die, and there's nothing any of us can do about it.

The gunshot comes out of nowhere.

One second, we're all screaming, afraid for Callie, Gunnar's cries making my heart shatter into a million pieces, the next, there's a red spot in the man's forehead.

He drops the gun and tips backward, slamming into the porch with a thump I swear I can feel through the ground. Callie stands there, crying, panicking.

"Get inside!" Gunnar screams at her when she doesn't move. "Callie, get inside!"

She scrambles backward as everyone reacts to the gunshot, crawling toward the front door, sobbing. Mel appears just before she opens it, blood running down his face, and grabs her quickly before ducking back inside. The other goons fire in the direction the bullet came from, but they start dropping like flies a few seconds later, taking bullets from the direction of the driveway. A black sedan appears, kicking up gravel as men hang from the open windows, large rifles in their hands. I watch with wide eyes as the sedan is joined by three more, as men hop out and make quick work of the rest of the Eight Ball gang. Gunnar kicks at the one holding him down and grabs a knife from his hip. He slams it into the man's throat, and the sight freezes me. Blood wells from the wound as the man gasps for breath, his hands going to the knife at his neck.

Trent fires his shotgun and takes out more men. I pull back, not wanting to see, Jethro held tightly in my arms for fear he'll run back out there. Colt and Rhett don't seem to notice as I pull back, my eyes wide, my hands shaking as I realize just how close we were to watching Callie die, how dangerous this still is. The panic attack starts to hit, but I take deep breaths, trying my best to hold it at bay. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four?—"

When the gunshots stop, someone whistles, and I tip my head up, listening. "Come out," a familiar voice calls. I know that voice. I know it well.

Rhett turns to me. "Stay here," he commands, before they all step out, leaving me in the garage.

"Fable, too."

My heart freezes, but I stand and carefully peek around the doorway, before wincing and following the guys. Lennox stands before us, his hands in his pockets, his goons standing with their guns relaxed but ready to be used if necessary. He smirks at me as I appear, Jethro at my hip. Bodies litter the ground around us, and I try not to look at them, knowing I'm one step away from another panic attack.

"Thank you," I choke out, because we'd probably be dead if not for Lennox. Callie certainly would be.

His smile widens. "I'm just protecting my investment, Fable Everhart. Nothing else."

"That's right," Rhett says, his voice angry. "When the fox hears the rabbit screaming, he comes running. But not to help."

Lennox laughs. "Well said, Thomas. Here, I didn't think you were a poet."

"We want out," Rhett spits, his shoulders tense.

"There is no out," Lennox replies. "And now you owe me, too" He glances around. "I assume you can clean up the mess on your own?"

"Yes," Trent grunts.

Lennox nods. "Very well. I look forward to my shipment next week." He turns but before he does, he meets my eyes. "Looks like you found your way into the hive after all, Everhart. Such a shame."

He whistles as he strolls away, back to his car. His goons follow, and they all drive back down the driveway as if they didn't just kill a couple dozen men in the yard, as if we're not surrounded by bodies.

"Go inside," Trent orders. "Check on Callie."

I do, only so I don't see the blood.

Only so I can't look at the massacre at Circle Bee.