26- Protects Stefano
“There’s a back exit in the safe room!” he said, gesturing toward a small door I hadn’t noticed before. “We have to move now!”
Just then, another gunshot rang out, and I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. I gasped and stumbled back, clutching the wound.
“Morrison!” Stefano shouted, panic flooding his voice. He rushed to my side, his expression a mix of concern and determination. “We can’t stay here! You have to keep moving!”
I gritted my teeth against the pain, forcing myself to stand. “Let’s go! I’m not leaving you behind!”
Together, we dashed toward the back exit, Stefano covering my retreat as best as he could. My heart pounded in my chest as we reached the door. He kicked it open, and we burst through into the darkness beyond, the sounds of chaos fading behind us as we ran into the night.
I didn’t know where we were headed, but I knew one thing for certain: I would do whatever it took to survive—and to protect Stefano.
*Morrison POV:*
The door blew in and dust and smoke blinded me. They’d brought explosives, and that was the one thing my safe room couldn’t handle. I cursed myself for not investing more money in a better unit but I never truly believed someone would come after me with explosives during my retirement.
My mistake was underestimating the tenacity of my enemies.
A flash-bang grenade dropped into the center of the room from the doorway. I yelled at Morrison to get down and covered his body with mine. It was lucky coincidence that he didn’t shoot me in the gut during the confusion.
Men poured through the door. I felt their hands grabbing my arms and head. They couldn’t see very well either but that didn’t stop them from punching and kicking me. I allowed the attackers to pull me off of Morrison so he didn’t get hurt by a stray fist or kick.
Once we were out in the main area of the basement, the air cleared enough to where I could see what was going on. A large man in tactical gear grabbed Morrison by the hair and began to drag him toward the stairs. He screamed in pain as the man tore his hair and I tried to get to him as he fought his captor. Every part of the goon’s arm and hand was covered, and Morrison’s attempt to claw his skin did no good.
There were only three men in the room with us; the others must have still been in the safe room. Or I’d only imagined there were more in my disoriented state. I made a split-second decision and shot the two behind me before turning my gun on the one holding Morrison. I didn’t bother aiming for center mass because I knew they would’ve been wearing body armor.
The one with his filthy hands wrapped in Morrison’s hair also wore a helmet. He must have been more important and less expendable than the others. Either that, or he was smarter. My only chance to drop him was to shoot him in the face. Whoever these men were, they’d underestimated my ability to hit my target.
One shot and the goggles covering his eyes exploded. When he fell, it was lucky he didn’t land on Morrison. My Omega scrambled for cover under the stairs, and the other men, who I hadn’t imagined, came running out from the safe room. They aimed their weapons at me, and in what I thought was my last moment, I wished I could see Morrison’s face one more time.
I fired at one of them and took him out. After that, I aimed at the next. If I was going to die, I’d decided to take as many of them with me as I could. None of them were wearing protective helmets. It’s probably why the chickenshit cowards had stayed back in the safe room while their buddies took the bullets.
A pop reverberated through the basement and I felt a burning in my thigh. I’d been shot, but it wasn’t a mortal wound. Still, the pain and weakness in my leg brought me to my knees.
“Don’t shoot again.” The voice came from the top of the stairs. “Drop your weapon, Stefano, and my men won’t shoot you again. Fire one more shot and we’ll kill you and Morrison.”
The man walked down to the bottom of the steps. I would have shot him but I was afraid they would make good on the promise to kill Morrison too.
“Morrison, come out,” he said, and I knew then it was Morrison’s father.
He slowly emerged from under the stairs. Morrison’s T-shirt was untucked, and I hoped he had the gun tucked into his waistband. But even more than that, I prayed that he had the will to use it. The possibility that he’d have to save himself because I was dead was very real.
“Papa. Oh god, Father. Thank god you’re here,” he said and rushed to him with big fat tears streaming down his face. “How did you find me?”
When he got within arm’s reach of his father, Anthony slapped him so hard that Morrison fell on his butt. I watched as he rubbed the bright red mark on his cheek. I wanted to make killing the bastard my last act but fear for Morrison held me back. I had to stay calm.
Anthony bent down and snatched the sapphire pendant from around Morrison’s neck. He held it up in front of his face and shook it. “This, you deceiving little jerk. This is how I found you. I never trusted your mother, and I never should have trusted you either. The new necklace I gave you would have helped me find you faster. It has newer technology and a stronger signal, but this one still worked.”
Morrison had been wearing a tracking device all along. His father had known what he was up to from the beginning. It was a trap. Anthony was able to get rid of his troublemaking son and me in one swoop.