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Back Dark Stars Save as PDF
Chapters (51)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Part One
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. Part Two
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. Part Three
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. Part Four
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. Part Five
  46. 39
  47. Acknowledgments
  48. About the Author
  49. Books by Danielle Rollins
  50. Back Ad
  51. About the Publisher

Mac stepped away from her, allowing her body to hit the ground just as the smoke from his gun cleared.

“I’m done playing nice,” he said, smacking his lips. “Seems to me that both of you had your chance to make deals a long time ago. We’re at my hotel, surrounded by my people, and I’m currently the only one holding a gun, so I’m going to go ahead and make the rules.”

Mac hadn’t holstered his gun, Ash noticed. He glanced to where he’d dropped his own gun. Still a few feet away. Too far.

Ash lunged for it, but he was still a good foot away when Mac shot. He ducked the bullet, slamming into the ground, his fingers twitching, his mouth filling with dust and dirt. Wood scraped into his cheeks, and remnants of shattered glass bit into his skin.

He coughed, hard, and tried to push himself back up, but Mac was too quick. There was a click that could’ve been a thumb sliding over the hammer of a gun—that was probably a thumb sliding over the hammer of a gun—and then cold metal pressed up against the back of Ash’s neck.

“The two of you have been pains in my ass for too long,” Mac said. “Why don’t you just hand over that canister and we can both—”

Ash threw his head back, his skull connecting with something hard. A grunt, and a spray of blood told him it’d been Mac’s face.

“You son of a bitch!” Mac snarled. He still had an arm angled across Ash’s back, holding him down, but his weight had shifted, and Ash knew he was probably struggling to retain his grip on him, his gun, and his badly bleeding face. Taking advantage of the chaos, Ash hauled himself up to his forearm and threw his elbow behind him.

A sharp clang told him that Mac had dropped his gun, too.

They were both unarmed.

Mac curled an arm around Ash’s neck and tried to drag him backward, but Ash was larger than Mac, and he hurled himself to the side, sending Mac off his back and rolling through the ashes. He was seeing stars, and his arms and legs felt like jelly, but he made himself push up to hands and knees, blinking.

Where was his gun?

There—a flash of metal in the ashes. Ash grunted, crawling for it, and that was when he noticed Mac a few feet away, eyes locked on something in front of him.

Mac reached his gun first, and he pushed himself up to his knees, swiveling around. His gun was before him, finger at the trigger—

A half second later, a gunshot cracked through the air.

Ash clenched his eyes shut a moment before the bullet hit him.

35

Dorothy