34. Quentin

"I'm goingto kill this fucking asshole!" I roar, brushing glass off the top of my head from the shattered windscreen.

"Yeah, we're going to have to survive this first," Callum grits out as that Adam fucker fires off another shot that smashes through the bust windscreen, over our heads and cuts a path through the van's back door.

"Jesus!"

"He's a fucking cunt!" Harry says, clambering over Thayer to get into the back with Cal close behind. I don't blame them. Sitting up front, they're mere feet away from this mad fucker.

"He won't kill us," Callum states confidently. "I know him. He knows my dad. He wouldn't…"

But his confidence doesn't make me feel any better. Bullets don't give a shit about who you know.

We all register the third and fourth blast, this one aimed to disable our front tyres.

"Fuck, that," I mutter, already shoving open the side door, deciding I've had enough of this fucked up game of chicken.

"Come on!" I shout at the others as I hit the alleyway ground hard, rolling to soften the impact before springing to my feet. There's no time for hesitation or fear; if we want Vogue back, it's now or never.

I'm already reaching into my boot, fingers wrapping around the cool handle of my trusty knife. It's a relic from my past, a constant reminder of where I've come from. It's seen more action than most soldiers, and it might need to add another notch today. The gun is useless in the back of my pants after we ran out of ammo fighting the fucking Vipers. This is a shitshow.

The other three guys are out of the van in seconds, scattering like roaches when the lights come on. Adam's eyes are tracking us, the barrel of his gun following suit. He isn't hesitating; he isn't doubting. His loyalty is clear, and it's not to us.

"What's the plan?" I whisper-shout to Callum, who's crouching behind an overflowing skip with that fuck-me smirk playing on his lips. He's too calm, and it pisses me off because Vogue is up there somewhere with Aaron, and we're down here playing fucking hide-and-seek with the Hulk.

"We distract and disarm," Callum whispers back as if it's simple. As if we're not about to dance with death. "This is a test. Nothing more. We survive, or we die. If we live, Vogue is ours, if not, well, she gets left in Aaron's hands. So it's up to you assholes what you think is the better option."

"Survive," Harry says hastily, and not just for his own skin, but Vogue's as well.

For me, there is nothing to think about. I will get to her or die trying, it's that simple.

Thayer nods from his spot near an abandoned crate, already sliding out his shiny blade from under his jacket.

Without any more of a plan than knowing we have to survive, we move. I charge toward Adam, my blood boiling hot with a fury that could burn this whole damn city down. I can hear Cal and Harry behind me, their footsteps pounding on the concrete in a deadly rhythm.

Adam readies his gun for another shot, but Thayer is faster; he flings something—it glints silver in the air—and Adam's shotgun clatters to the ground. A fucking throwing star.

"Good boy," I murmur.

Adam chuckles and reaches behind him with both hands, drawing two knives that are playing at being swords.

"Fuck," I growl, but keep moving.

Cal makes a bold move, diving forward and tackling him at the knees. The big man doesn't even stumble; he's solid like a tree trunk with an amused sneer plastered across his face. He swings one of his knives at Callum, but he rolls out of the way, fast as lightning.

"You're gonna have to be quicker than that," he taunts the behemoth.

Adam grunts but says nothing, turning with way more grace than I'd expect for a man of his size, swinging both knives in Harry's direction, who was attempting to sneak up on him from behind.

"Yeah, this isn't working," I spit out and launch my blade at Adam, where it buries in his arm, but that's about it.

He barely flinches, ripping it out and sneering in my direction.

I dodge one of Adam's strikes, the blade whistling as it slices through the air. Harry's fists are a blur as he launches a volley of punches that bounce off Adam like he's made of stone. Callum is at his side again, bobbing and weaving like a shadow, looking for an opening.

"Thayer, any time now would be great!" I yell, ducking under another wide swing that could've taken my head off.

Thayer doesn't reply immediately, but I catch the shimmer of something in the corner of my eye just before another throwing star embeds itself in Adam's shoulder. He grunts this time, but the fucker still doesn't go down.

"We need to disable him," I say between gritted teeth, sweeping a leg at Adam's ankles, but it's like kicking a concrete block.

Callum lunges, using the moment to launch himself onto Adam's back, locking his forearm around his throat. "You won't keep us from her," he snarls into Adam's ear.

Adam bucks wildly, trying to throw Callum off, but my brother holds on with a death grip.

Suddenly, the realisation hits me like a punch to the gut: we're not going to outmuscle this guy. We've got to be smarter, more cunning.

"Back the fuck up!" I shout, gesturing for Callum, Harry and Thayer to retreat as I grip another knife hidden in my jacket.

"Got a plan?" Thayer grunts, his forehead drenched in sweat.

"Bleed him out," I say with a lethal calmness creeping into my voice.

We start circling Adam, who's now working the throwing star out of his shoulder with gritted teeth. Blood coats his fingers, a vivid red that spells opportunity.

Callum gives me a nod, and I know he's ready for whatever insanity I have in mind.

"Keep him busy," I murmur, and my twin understands instantly, baiting Adam with swift dodges and feints.

Thayer and Harry use the distraction. They're in sync, moving like shadows on either side of Adam, slashing at his legs and arms whenever they find an opening. Blood trickles down from fresh wounds, staining the ground beneath us. Both his and ours. Adam slams his fist in Harry's gut, knocking the wind out of him, gasping and wheezing for breath as he hits the deck hard.

Adam and I lock gazes as he takes out Thayer with a swipe of his other fist.

"You won't stop me," I say, shaking my head. "You can try; you can knife me, shoot me, bash my head into the ground, but you won't stop me. She means more to me than any other fucker on this fucked-up planet, so do what you have to, but I'm going through you."

He narrows his eyes, and for one tiny second, I think he's going to stand down.

Boy, was I wrong.

If anything, he doubles down, launching his gigantic self at me, body slamming me to the ground, and everything goes fuzzy and then black for a moment before the world rushes back around me, my breath squeezed from my lungs by the mammoth on top of me, grinning at me like a crazy fucking psycho.

Just as my vision starts to clear and I'm drawing in sharp gasps of air, a figure barrels into Adam, knocking him off balance. It's Callum, face a mask of raging determination. He lands a heavy punch to Adam's jaw that actually makes the monster roll off me.

"Get off him," Callum roars, voice dripping with venom I've never heard before. "No one fucking hurts him. Not ever again."

Shocked to my core at the ferocity in Cal's words, I roll to my side, coughing and pushing myself up. My head spins like I've been on a bender for a week straight. But I can't rest, not yet. Vogue's still in danger, and this motherfucker is still between us and her.

He's on his feet already, circling us like a gigantic fucking monster ready to eat us whole.

Harry's back on his feet now, albeit shakily, joining the standoff with renewed fury. Adam's bleeding from various cuts and grazes now, his breaths coming in ragged pants - but it only seems to make him fight harder.

"Thayer!" I shout over the chaos. "Help Harry!"

I look over just in time to see Thayer pull himself up using the crate, his eyes blazing with an almost feral intensity. He lunges forward, helping Harry distract Adam from the front.

I grip my knife tighter and flank around to Adam's blind side. With every ounce of strength left in me, I drive the knife into his side.

Adam roars, the sound vibrating through the concrete beneath us. For a brief second, I fear we've only made things worse as he swats Harry and Thayer away like annoying flies.

"You're a fucking dick!" I shout at him. "Why won't you go down?"

"This is pointless," Harry pants.

"No!" I roar, pointing at him. "No."

Bending over, I take a second for a breather, and then I dive at Adam, ready to end this.