The hell had she been thinking when she agreed to date him in the first place?
Then she turned her gaze to her huge, tatted up biker, wearing no shirt, his strong chest and arms bare, his colorful tattoos on full display, only wearing a pair of worn and ripped jeans, still unbuttoned, and black motorcycle boots.
And behind her was a clubhouse full of men just like him.
Yeah, maybe he wasn’t all that stupid for bringing three guns.
She knew she was in big fucking trouble with Bolt when this was all over, but she’d welcome whatever punishment and lecture he dished out, so long as they were both alive for it to happen.
She didn’t regret coming outside, though. Because while her mate might not be critically injured right now, he was still facing a man with three damned guns—and he hadn’t brought his own with him.
If there was a way she could give him hers, she would. But she was prepared to use it, so they weren’t defenseless.
“The only mistake,” Shawn replied, startling her back into the moment, “was you helping that dumb bitch. If you’d minded your own business, I wouldn’t be here to take back what’s mine right now.”
Bolt’s hand clenched by his side. “She’s not fucking yours, and if you speak about her like that again, I’ll make you miserable before I put you out of your fucking misery.”
“Did you fuck her? Wait, of course you didn’t. You’d be throwing her back to me right now if you had. No matter. You were dead the moment you interfered at the store.”
Ana’s blood ran cold as he raised one of the guns. Not thinking twice, she stood and moved away from the boxes, holding up her own weapon. “I’m right here, asshole.”
Her ex’s head whipped toward her, his look of delight morphing into laughter. “A gun? Really, Stasia? You don’t have the guts to shoot me, and it’s laughable that you think I might actually believe you would.” A heartbeat later, his eyes darkened with rage and his lips curled back in a sneer as he took in her shirt—Bolt’s shirt. “You did fuck him, didn’t you, Anastasia? Dirty fucking whore. You just made yourself tainted, you dumb bitch.”
Raising his other gun, he pointed it at her, and she nearly gave into hysterical laughter at the sheer insanity of the moment. Bolt was standing there with no weapons, while Shawn pointed a gun at him and her, and she pointed one at him.
How the hell was this her life?
“Motherfucker, you don’t want to do that,” Bolt warned, his voice dangerously low.
“Oh, I think I do. In case you haven’t noticed, I hold all the power here. She won’t shoot me, and you don’t have a gun. There’s no one to stop me.”
Bolt smirked as he held up his hand, lightning dancing around his fingertips. “Is that what you think?”
Shawn’s eyes grew almost comically wide. “W-what the fuck?”
“Surprise, motherfucker.”
With no more warning than that, he shot a lightning bolt at Shawn’s feet, and the other man paled, jumping backward with a yelp. And then several things happened at once, making her sway on her feet with shock.
Shawn fired one of the guns at Bolt, and the moment he squeezed the trigger, Ana pulled hers. She heard her bullet hit him, heard him squealing about his knee, but she didn’t spare him another glance, her gaze locked on her mate.
Her heart stopped as he jerked backward from the force of the bullet. Not just her heart, but her whole fucking world.
His glowing green eyes met hers for a split second, and then with a roar and the loud popping of bones, he shifted into his massive leopard, his black fur gleaming in the morning sun as he slumped onto the ground.
She stared at his prone form as she willed him to move, running her eyes desperately over his body, his leopard’s spots popping under the sun instead of blending into his darker fur.
But the universe didn’t seem to be hearing her pleas, because he didn’t move. And her heart splintered into a million pieces.
Bolt gritted his teeth, shaking his large head as he forced himself to his feet. He’d been tensed to shift, already beginning the process of giving the leopard his body, pushing it despite the pain, when the bullet slammed into his shoulder. He’d been stunned for a moment, unable to move as agony speared his shoulder.
The pain seared his muscles, but he ignored it as he struggled to his feet. The pain he was feeling now was nothing compared to how it would feel if he lost his mate because he didn’t finish off that motherfucker.
He heard Ana gasp, and once he was on his feet, swaying for a heartbeat, he glanced over at her. She was staring at him with tears streaming down her face, a mixture of pain, relief, and worry in her sky-blue eyes, her gun still clenched in her hand.
Hating the fact that he couldn’t give her the reassurance she desperately needed, he turned back to the asshole crying on the ground. Ana had shot his kneecap to pieces, and the pain must be horrendous.
Satisfaction filled him at the sight. That’s my girl.
It was time to end this, once and for all. His plan had been to drag the sorry sack of shit into the woods and do it where his mate couldn’t see, but that ended the moment Shawn lifted the gun.
Eyes full of fear as he saw the massive leopard stalking toward him, he shakily pointed the gun at Bolt—and then maniacal glee filled his eyes as he turned it toward Ana instead.
His beautiful, sweet, stubborn, brave, foolish as fuck mate—whose gaze was still locked on him, completely unaware of the threat to herself.
He could hear the other club members running around the corner, knew some of them were in human