Trashy (Take It Off #10)(52)
Author: Cambria Hebert

Adrenaline and sheer fear almost stopped my body from breathing.

And then a gunshot tore through the air.

33

Roxie

The bullet hit my attacker and his body jerked back. I used the moment to scramble up off the desk and stand on shaky legs.

The man I shot stared up at me with wide, shocked eyes as his hand slowly came up to cover the red blooming out across his chest.

I gripped the gun, finger still on the trigger, all too willing to shoot him again.

But it wasn’t necessary.

He crumpled to the floor and didn’t get back up.

In the doorway, the cameraman stood there in shock, his jaw slack as the bright light on top of the camera shined in my eyes.

I lifted the gun and pointed it at him.

The door to the club slammed open. The sound of the metal hitting against the wall made everyone in the room jump.

“Roxie!” Adam roared. Seconds later, I heard a string of curses and his footsteps crunching over glass.

“I’m here,” I said weakly, still pointing the gun at the cameraman.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Adam roared. The camera was pulled off of the man’s shoulder and hit the ground with a sharp crack. Adam spun him around by the shoulder, and I heard bones crunch as he plowed his fist into the man’s face.

He too crumbled to the floor with his bleeding friend.

Adam looked at me and his face went white. He swayed a little on his feet and stepped over the body of the cameraman. I was still holding out the gun, my arm shaking uncontrollably, and my teeth beginning to chatter.

Adam approached me warily, slowly. “Oh, sweetheart. What happened to you?”

“I shot him,” I said, feeling numb.

Adam didn’t even glance at the body on the floor. “I’m sure he deserved it.”

The desk was still between us when he stopped walking. “Can I have the gun, sweetheart?” he asked, glancing at it pointed toward him.

I knew I didn’t need to point it at him, but I just couldn’t make myself lower my arm. I nodded as my teeth slammed together, creating a loud clicking noise.

“I’m going to come over there,” he said gently and moved around the desk. Slowly, he reached out and peeled the gun from my hand, lowering it to his side.

When the gun was gone, a sob ripped out of my chest.

“Oh, love,” he crooned. “Oh shit.”

I’d never seen his sun-kissed skin look so pale. His eyes were red-rimmed and the pain on his face was raw. “You’re bleeding,” he said.

I glanced down at my breast at the blood smeared on my skin. “He bit me,” I replied, my voice hollow.

Adam made a strangled sound and began unbuttoning his shirt. He stripped it off quickly and then took a step toward me. “Let’s get you covered up,” he whispered and pulled it around me.

I pushed my arms through the oversized gray dress shirt as I shook almost uncontrollably. Adam buttoned it up and then glanced at me. “Can I touch you?”

I nodded.

He pulled me into his warm, bare chest. A sob ripped from my throat and they didn’t stop. I cried and cried. The sounds leaving my body were almost inhuman. I’d never been so afraid or violated in my entire life.

The man who tried to rape me moaned from the floor.

I jerked and whimpered.

Adam shot him.

He wouldn’t be making any more sounds.

I started crying again, and Adam picked me up, cradling me into his chest, and turned to leave the room. The cameraman was sitting against the wall, staring at Adam warily.

“I swear to God,” he intoned, “if you so much as move, I will fucking kill you.”

I didn’t look to see what the man’s reaction was, but since I heard nothing at all, I assumed he listened.

Juggling me, the gun, and a cell, Adam dialed 9-1-1. A sound from across the room brought both our heads up.

Craig was up on the stage, having rushed out from behind the curtain where I assumed he was hiding.

He was holding a gun pointed directly at us. “I’m leaving. Don’t try and stop me and I won’t shoot.”

“You fucking piece of lowlife scum,” Adam growled. He sounded more animal than man, and it scared me. “The only place you’re going is jail. Where little boys like you become toys. I hope you enjoyed whatever the fuck you tried to do here today because worse than that is waiting for you in the slammer.”

Craig shouted and leapt off the stage, his shoes making a slapping sound on the floor. I screamed as he raised the gun once more at Adam.

“No!” I screamed as gunfire erupted.

Police sirens cut through the silence that followed the shots.

“Adam!” I screamed, trying to get out of his arms, trying to see where he was shot.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Adam said, picking up a chair and sitting in it with me in his lap. “He didn’t shoot me.”

“Then…?” My voice cracked.

“He tried.” Adam grunted. “My aim is better.”

I tore my eyes from Adam and looked across the room at Craig.

Adam shot him.

I was pretty sure he was dead.

I was sad and relieved all at the same time. I collapsed against Adam’s chest. My entire body hurt and I felt so incredibly dirty.

Police rushed through the door, scattering into the room like red ants on a disturbed anthill, all of them with weapons drawn.

“All’s clear,” Adam called and set the gun down on the floor beside us and lifted his hands where they could see them.

Adam held me while several officers with drawn weapons scurried through the building, looking for more intruders. After several long minutes of searching, they met back in the bar.

“Scene is clear,” one of the men said to another man who was stepping through the door.

“Lincoln,” Adam said, relief in his voice. “Am I fucking glad to see you.”

“When the 9-1-1 call came through with no response and this address, I was afraid I’d find something like this,” he said, his eyes focusing on me. I guessed my attempt to call for help had gotten through. Thank God.

“Ma’am.” He bobbed his chin toward me.

Lincoln was Adam’s friend on the police force. He was at the station when we filled out the protection order paperwork.

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I just buried my face in Adam’s neck. His arms tightened around me.

“Looks like we have some casualties,” Lincoln surmised. “Get the coroner over here and this place cordoned off.”

When men started shuffling around the room, Lincoln spoke to us again. “I’m going to need some statements.”