She watched the scene unfold in morbid fascination. The outlaws didn’t even break a sweat, and they were completely unfazed by the fact that they were outnumbered. Fists connected with jaws. Grunts heated the air. Another explosion of gunfire took chunks out of the cement wall.
A furious male curse made her wince, and she twisted her head in time to see the blond outlaw stumble backward. He lifted a hand to his neck in amazement, and even from across the room she saw his hand come back stained with blood. He’d been hit. And yet he didn’t even miss a beat as he raised his gun and fired twice, eliciting a shriek of agony from the long-haired bandit who’d been attempting to finish him off.
A thud. Two. The bandits were dropping like flies.
Silence finally descended over the room, broken only by the groans of those lucky enough to be alive.
“Well, that was fun,” the man with the black eyes remarked. He sounded thoroughly bored.
A scuffed boot crossed her line of vision. She shifted in time to see the thick sole stomp on the chest of the bandit leader, the one with the beard. When she raised her gaze, she discovered that the boot belonged to the man with the smoldering hazel eyes.
“I suggest you round up your buddies – the ones who are still breathing – and get the hell out of here,” he said coolly.
“Fuck you,” was the strangled reply.
With a heavy breath, the man hauled the bandit to his feet. “Fine, we’ll do it the hard way.”
He grabbed the guy’s arm and broke it with a sickening crack.
Hudson flinched at the bandit’s shriek of pain, watching in amazement as the outlaw manhandled the injured man to the door. He stopped, glanced over his shoulder in an unspoken command, and his men wasted no time hauling the remaining intruders out of the bar.
Patrons slowly got to their feet. Dazed. The bartender rushed toward the blond man, but he brushed off her arm and continued toward the door, an unconscious man hanging over his broad shoulder.
Hudson stood up on shaky legs and stared at the bodies littering the floor. Eight in total. A bloody massacre. She wasn’t surprised when a few customers made a beeline for the dead, frantically rummaging through pockets and looting the lifeless men.
She was sheathing her knife when the outlaws returned. The blond had his palm clamped over his neck, and she could see blood oozing between his fingers.
“Everybody all right?” their leader asked gruffly.
The bartender hurried over. “Thank you,” she blurted out.
He ignored the declaration of gratitude. “Two of my guys will stay here tonight in case those assholes decide to push their luck and come back. But I suggest you close up shop. Location’s been compromised, which means you’re bound to encounter more of this shit.”
She nodded rapidly. “We will. We’ll close up tomorrow.”
“Good.”
He glanced around the room, his hazel eyes resting on Hudson. Warmth instantly flooded her belly, traveling through her body until every inch of her felt hot and achy.
After a long moment, he broke the eye contact. “Let’s move out,” he barked at his friends. “Xander, you and Pike take care of the bodies and make sure these folks stay safe.”
“No problem. Oh, and, Connor,” the other man added dryly, “get Ry cleaned up. He’s bleeding like a stuck pig.”
Connor. The name suited him.
Hudson couldn’t take her eyes off him as he turned and marched to the door, providing her with a nice view of his taut backside. It wasn’t until he disappeared through the doorway that she snapped out of her trance.
Ignoring the startled looks from the other people in the bar, she raced out the door, blinking to adjust to the darkness. The lights that had once illuminated the parking lot of the hospital had been knocked out, and parts of the pavement were black and cracking, most likely from the fires or explosives that had been set off by the looters all those years ago.
Everything beyond the walls of West City looked this way – dead trees and blackened earth, crumbling buildings and overgrown neighborhoods, and the coastal cities that hadn’t ended up underwater were still flooded to shit.
Hudson stopped only to grab the duffel bag she’d stashed in the bushes, then raced across the parking lot. She caught up with Connor just as he reached the beat-up Jeep parked in the lot.
“Wait!”
He froze. Turned his head slightly, greeting her with suspicion.
She stumbled toward the vehicle, aware of how foolish she was being. How reckless.
But she knew without a shred of doubt that the answer to all her problems was standing right there in front of her. This man, with his warrior body and cold eyes and military precision – he was the solution.
“Yeah?” he muttered.
“You… What you guys did back there… I just wanted to…”
A soft chuckle sounded from behind her. She spun around as the blond guy with the bloody neck – Ry? – approached the Jeep, tailed by another dark-haired outlaw.