I’d managed nearly a month with a group of bikers, who were known murderers, but here I was standing with a gun aimed at my head. It was the closest I’d come to dying, in the kitchen of one of the bikers I’d been fucking for nearly two weeks.
Bullet to the head was not the way I wanted to go…not the way anyone wanted to go. I wondered which reporter would get to tell my story or if my body would ever be found.
My heart seized in my chest when Chuck leveled his weapon and his finger tightened on the trigger. I slammed my eyes shut, unwilling to see it coming and not wanting to know the moment that signified the end of my life.
“Drop the fucking gun, Aaron or I’m going to kill this bitch right now.”
As scared as I was, I knew enough to know the way this world operated. My eyes popped back open. If Aaron dropped that gun, we were dead anyway. As least he had a little leverage aiming his gun at Chuck’s son’s head.
When Aaron’s hand wavered like he was about to drop his weapon, my gaze left the barrel of death in Chuck’s hand and landed on Aaron’s back. I couldn’t believe what I was about to say. “Aaron, don’t drop shit. They will kill us anyway.”
Chuck smiled at me. “You got some balls, little maid. I’ll give you that much.”
My mind urged me to do something stupid. Since our chances of surviving this was slim to none, I went with my stupid impulse.
Just as Chuck’s gaze left me and he started to say something else, I reached up and gripped Aaron’s strong arm with both of mine and yanked him down to the floor with me as hard as I could.