And I will.

I throw myself out of cover once more, my gun cocked and pressed firmly into my shoulder. The gun kicks into me, vibrating my entire upper body and the length of my arm as I repeatedly squeeze the trigger. Even over the thunderous sound of my rifle, I hear my heart thrumming against my ear drums.

There’s too many front on, I’ll have to flank them. I pull back into cover, desperately dragging air in through my nose. The air fills my lungs and taints my tongue with the essence of metal and gunpowder and, no matter how hard I swallow, it doesn't go away. Bullets rain down on top of me, chipping away at the stone, getting closer and closer to following through and piercing my body. They don’t stop, leaving no pause for me to get up and fire back.

“Dammit!” I snap, my voice hoarse and harsh.

I’m trapped—pinned down with no options. Or at least I am for a minute or two. The crushing sound of a shotgun blasts through the air. Distinct shouting rumbles over the roar of gunfire and the spray of bullets against my rock let’s up. I wait, straining my ears for a sound—any sound—that indicates they’ve gone or are advancing on my position.

"Jai?" A voice booms, thick with panic.

Ted?

I peer out from behind my rock and squint through the dust and smoke. When it settles, I see Ted against the left flank of the house, a shotgun in his hand and four dead men littered around him. He stumbles and clenches his side as I push myself to my feet.

"Ted?" I shout, sprinting across the courtyard.

"Joel is inside—pinned down in the foyer. He needs covering fire from the left to make it to level three. That’s where they're keeping the girl. I tried to help, but—ah!”

I reach him and wrap my arms around his waist, helping him lower himself to the ground.

“Shut up.” I demand, glancing around us.

What the fuck can I use to stop the bleeding? My desperate eyes stop on the dead guy beside me. He’s missing half of his face and his shirt has small pieces of skull and brain on it, but it’ll have to do.

“God, no! I’d rather bleed out. Jai—”

“I said shut up.” I bark.

I’m not about to let Ted die. Not over this. I rip at the shirt of the dead man beside me. Surprisingly, it tears cleanly, allowing me to ball the fabric and stuff it against Ted’s side. He hisses and growls, his body quaking with pain.

"Hold it tightly. It needs pressure. I don't think the bullet has hit any important organs, but we need to get you out of here as soon as possible."

Groaning, Ted nods and I set up his shotgun on his lap.

“If someone comes play dead if you have to and wait for them to get close. I’ll help Joel get the girl and then we can get the hell out of here.”

Ted nods, his skin growing clammy and cold. He’s going to bleed out. Grabbing my rifle, I rake my fingers through my hair and push forward, entering the huge establishment through the back door. I don’t pay attention to the rooms I storm through, they all seem to blend together, filled with smoke and dust and riddled with the same amount of bullet holes. Eventually, I slip in to the foyer from a side door well off to the left side. Exactly where I need to be. Loud gunshots ring out from the guns of the two men in front of me. It’s so loud they don’t hear me coming. They point their guns toward the top of the stairs and shoot at the thick marble columns that support this thick, monstrous structure. Upon starting this shoot out, most of the men ran to the front where Joker was waiting, leaving us to clean up the dregs. Unfortunately for us, those dregs still outnumber us, making it a hell of a lot harder than I originally thought. I step out from behind a wall and inch closer to the brutes in front of me. In the back right pocket of the man on the left, I spot a hunting knife in its sheath.

I can grab it.

Adrenaline pounds through my veins. It’s now or never. I lift my gun and shoot the guy on the right. As he crumbles, I snatch the knife from its sheath and punch the other guy in the back of the head. They both crash to the floor. One dead, the other available to talk. Rolling him onto his back, I drop the majority of my weight on top of him.

“Where’s Skull?” I demand, pushing the knife against his throat.

The asshole blinks and settles his black, oil-like irises on mine. Recognition flares in his beady eyes and he smiles, his fat, bulbous cheeks lifting toward his eyes. “Him and the rest of them are on their way. You’re a dead man, Stone.”

“Jai?” Joel calls my name from the top of the stairs, but I don’t take my eyes off the toad underneath me.

“I’m all right.” I call back. “Get the girl.”

Under my knee—a knee that’s an ounce of pressure away from cracking this guy’s ribs—his body vibrates as a hum of laughter flows through him.

“All of this for Skull’s whore?” He chuckles. “She must have a magnificent pussy.”

I drop my elbow against his face, splitting the skin over his cheek bone. Blood pours from the thick gash, rolling along his sharp bone and dripping into his ear.

“How long?” I press the knife against his throat once more—harder, until blood pools along the edge of the blade. “Until Skull gets here? How long?”

He smiles—amused—despite the split in his cheek. “I’d say any minute now. You bring the other girl with you? Oh, Skull would love to see the girl.”

“Argh!” Pulling the knife back, I clench my fist around the handle and smash it into his face. His nose breaks under the force, but it’s not enough to stop me. I pull back and hit him again. And again. And again. Until the only sound he makes are the sounds of blood and bone as they are forced onto the tiles. I don’t know how long I hit him for…long enough to make his face resemble a dropped cherry pie. I pant, my arm feeling like it weighs a ton as I cock it back one last time. I let it fly and it drops pathetically, only to be caught midair by a strong hand around my bicep.

“Let’s go.” Joel orders, gripping my bicep, preventing me from demolishing the rest of this fucker’s face.

I whip my head up in Joel’s direction. His black eyes pleading with me. He’s finished? I’m just getting started.

“Skull will be here any minute.” I tell him, forcing myself to my feet.

I glance at my shaking hands and analyze the splattering of blood, following it up my arm. There’s a hunger inside me…a hunger to cause more pain—to draw more blood. I haven’t felt this way since I fought in the tunnels. It’s addicting—empowering—like cliff jumping into the freezing Atlantic.

“I’m not leaving.” I say with absolute finality.

Joel steps closer, worry etched into his face. “We didn’t come here for Skull.”

“You didn’t.” I yank my arm free. “I can kill him.”

Joel runs a hand over his head and through his hair. “Jai, please. Ted has been shot, I have Monique, and Emily is waiting for you. Don’t make me show up there without you.”

I blink as my heart beats, its pumping rhythm breaking down the anger in my veins.

“Emily is waiting for you.” He repeats, and the murderous fog clouding my brain disintegrates.

Emily is waiting for me.

I drop the knife and clench my hand as it trembles. I swallow, desperate to moisten my dry throat, but it only makes it worse. I glance around the foyer. The white walls are painted red with blood and drilled with bullet holes. Dead bodies are strewn across what I’m sure were once pristine tiles, their guns laying waste beside them. I glance back to Joel and a pair of scared, light violet eyes lock with mine as they peer over Joel’s shoulder.

“Is this your brother?” She asks, her voice beautifully light, like a song written in only high notes.

Joel steps out of the way and Monique inches forward. Joel wasn’t lying when he said she was young. She was seventeen when they met, making her nineteen now. She’s small—smaller than Emily, but slightly taller. She rakes her teeth over her plump lips while toying with her long, blonde hair that curls underneath her small breasts. She is everything I would have thought Joel wasn’t attracted to.