Nolan by Lane Hart, D.B. West

Chapter Thirty-One

Nolan

Despite Roman telling me to wait and not go inside the house, I had to. He would too if it was Charlotte in here with that big son of a bitch.

But no, thankfully, Charlotte and Madison are safe and sound in a diner, waiting for us with Cannon.

The house was dark and quiet when I came in before dawn in just my socks, hoping to be quieter than stomping around in my boots. Even in the socks, a few boards squeaked, making me cringe each time. For a moment, I thought the place was empty since I was expecting to hear Rita’s screams. I worried that he had left the truck and taken Rita away in another vehicle. Then I found the locked door in the hallway that I figured was a basement.

Everything in me wanted to bust down the door and go down after her, even knowing it would be a stupid decision and probably get me killed.

So, I forced myself to wait just a little longer.

And what do you know, they finally came back up. Hearing Rita’s calm voice was a huge relief. Then I recognized her words mentioning being patient, and I didn’t think she was just talking to Leroy. So, I tiptoed over to the pantry with its single thin wooden door to wait.

Hopefully, our sniper, Miles, will get a clean shot on the big bastard or he’ll get hungry soon.

My gun is cocked and ready in a two-handed grip, waiting.

The floor creaks, and then it sounds like a door is being opened, then quickly shut, probably the fridge.

I raise the muzzle up a little higher than normal for the kill shot just before the pantry door swings open wide and there he fucking stands. I fire off three shots, hitting him in the upper chest while his mouth falls open in shock. When he doesn’t go down, I lift the muzzle to put a bullet in his head, followed by another, which finally puts him on his ass. At least half of his head is vaporized; but with his one remaining eye, the massive demon focuses on me, and from where he’s sitting, his hand reaches behind his cut. Then, as I step forward to empty my clip into his face, he finally falls backwards with a crash that reverberates through the entire, run-down home.

Jesus.

Even now I’m not certain the big motherfucker is actually dead. I wait a few more seconds, wishing my hearing would come back before I leave the pantry.

Stepping over him, I look down at his face, finding his sightless eye staring up at the ceiling. Movement from my left startles me before I see it’s Roman and Abel coming in from the back door.

Both of their mouths move, but I can’t hear anything but soft whispers just yet. I do recognize the word Rita on their lips and follow their pointed fingers down to where I remember seeing the one small bathroom.

Hurrying over to the closed door, I bang my fist on it. “Rita? Are you okay, baby? You can come out now, it’s all over!” In my head, it sounds like I’m quietly murmuring the words, but I know it’s only temporary until my hearing comes back.

The door flies open, and then the tall, beautiful woman is a blur as she throws her arms around my neck, staggering me backward thanks to my socks on the hardwood floors sliding before I catch my balance. Someone takes my gun from my hand, freeing both of them so I can hold her.

“You’re okay!” Rita exclaims loud enough for me to hear while clinging to me.

“Isn’t that my line?” I ask her softly. I hold her for several more moments but pull away when I hear her grunt of pain.

“I’m okay,” she says as my eyes rake down her, noticing for the first time she’s only wearing a bra and her shorts. Huge dark purple bruises cover her literally from head to toe, all up and down the front of her body, and her beautiful face is discolored and swollen in places. “The bruises are my own fault for trying to run away. He caught me on the stairs.”

“I wish I could kill him all over again,” I grit out.

“I’m just glad he’s really dead,” she says. “How in the world did you find me?”

“Two crazy women,” I explain. “Charlotte and Madison basically stole a car to follow you.”

“Wow. They are nuts! They saw him shoot the prospects…” she trails off, biting her lip as if afraid to ask.

We got the call in the middle of the night while planning our rescue attempt. “They’re both out of surgery, and the doctors think they’ll make a full recovery.”

“Oh, thank goodness! I’m so sorry they were hurt.”

“They’ll heal. It comes with the territory. Hell, now they may change their minds about whether or not they want their patch or if it’s worth the trouble.”

“What about you?” she asks as tears swim in her blue eyes and she hiccups. “Am I too much trouble?”

I smile at her and shake my head. “Never, Cherry Pie. Never. Now, let’s get you home. To our real home.”