Pain.
So much pain.
Sharp agony flooded back with Dixie's consciousness, instantly radiating through every limb.
Slowly, Dixie opened her eyes, breathing laboriously against the fiery pain in her ribs.
"Awake, Rex."
Melissa's cold, sharp voice came from nearby. Dixie tried to turn her head, but her neck wouldn't budge.
The click of high heels sounded. Melissa's stern, iron-gray eyes appeared in Dixie's field of vision.
"Thank God, kid. You've got nine lives."
Melissa's words were barely out when Will's voice carried over.
"Thank Rex, not God."
Rex seemed to be right there but didn't respond.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, Dixie tried to turn her head. A large, bony hand reached over and pushed her head back down.
"Don't move."
Rex's voice.
Dixie froze. Her dark eyes looked towards Rex, but due to her angle, she could only see his powerful forearm.
"…"
Dixie's thin chest rose and fell. Her lips parted, releasing a hoarse, half-formed syllable. The scabbed, bruised corner of her mouth split open again.
"Sherry went." Rex seemed to know what she wanted to ask. He crossed his arms, his ice-blue eyes fixed on the small figure swathed in bandages on the bed, his expression unreadable.
"Hey, was it the enforcers?" Will leaned in, concern in his voice. "Sherry *is* an enforcer now. She can't interfere."
"…" Dixie's chest heaved more noticeably. Her breathing grew rapid. Her dark eyes widened further.
Her lips parted again, as if she was desperately trying to say something.
"What?"
Rex frowned slightly, uncrossing his arms and leaning closer to Dixie.
"G…" Dixie's voice was shattered, hoarse, punctuated by gasps. She managed only one sound before falling silent.
Her dark eyes fixed intently on Rex's face as he neared. The hand with the IV drip clenched slightly.
For the first time, urgent unease flickered in her expression.
Just one syllable, but Rex's expression shifted instantly. Will, completely lost, frowned. "What did she say?"
"Gun."
The instant Rex spoke, a deafening gunshot echoed from upstairs.
BANG!!
Everyone in the infirmary paled. Cold fury rose in Rex's ice-blue eyes. "F**k!" he snarled, grabbing a scalpel and striding out.
Dixie lay there, eyes wide, lips pressed tight against the pain in her ribs, struggling to rise. Melissa, face stony, pinned her down with one hand.
"Listen here, kid. I just finished patching you up. Wanna die? Pray to God!"
She spun around, glaring at Will, who stood frozen. "What the hell are you gawking at?! Get help!"
"I…" Will was still reeling from the gunshot.
"D*mn it! Go!!" Melissa hurled the medical chart at him. Will scrambled out with a hurried "Yes!"
...
In a second-floor VIP room, the dark muzzle of a gun still smoked. Warm droplets of blood fell to the floor.
"D*mn it! Stay outta my way!"
Sherry glanced down at her bleeding arm, raised an eyebrow, and clicked her tongue softly. A cold glint flashed in her light green eyes.
Three burly men were beaten to various degrees – bruised around the eyes, bleeding from noses and mouths – thoroughly disheveled.
Sherry only had blood smeared on the knuckles of two fingers and the graze on her arm from the bullet.
Her silver hair fell elegantly over her shoulder, untouched.
Suppressing the coldness, Sherry looked up at the two battered Danes opposite her and the still-trembling gun barrel. She offered a blood-stained smile. "No firearms allowed in the Burman establishment, gentlemen."
"B*tch!!" The gun-wielding Dane snarled angrily, spitting Danish curses. He was the one who had been straddling Dixie, the one she'd headbutted.
Sherry's lips curved slightly. She took a long step forward in her high heels. The sharp clicks echoed in the two men's hearts.
BANG!!
The gun fired again, but its chance to hit Sherry was gone.
Silver curls whipped as the high-velocity bullet passed through empty air. Sherry had dropped and pivoted the instant the shot rang out. She spun, lashing out with a flying kick. Her stiletto heel slammed directly into the gunman's face.
"Ughack…!!"
Blood sprayed instantly from his nose and mouth. He was kicked back half a meter, the gun flying from his grasp.
Sherry's eyes narrowed. She lunged, hand chopping out to seize the weapon.
But another large, knuckled hand got there first, snatching the gun from the floor.
Sherry knew it was bad. She looked up. The dark muzzle pointed straight at her.
"D*mn…" The man sneered, the gun nudging her silver-white curls. "Heard you're a Burman enforcer? Try me. I'll send you straight to heaven!"
Sherly straightened up along the line of the barrel. Hearing this, her cat-like eyes curved as she laughed. "If death truly leads to heaven, sir, you'd get there far faster than me."
"B*tch!!" The man shoved the gun closer, face contorted with rage. "Back off!!"
Sherry curled her lip, shrugged, and raised her hands in surrender. She slowly stepped back, her heels tapping crisply on the floor.
When Rex and Will arrived, Sherry was being backed out of the room at gunpoint, the dark pistol pressed to her forehead, hands slightly raised.
"!!!"
Will's pupils contracted. He instinctively stepped back, looking at Rex beside him.
Rex didn't look at Sherry. His jaw muscles twitched. His ice-blue eyes were locked on the black pistol, churning with unmistakable, savage killing intent.
Sherry saw Rex and Will. She tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a devastatingly charming smile as she winked at them.
Will looked even more bewildered.
Rex's gaze remained fixed, locked onto the gun in the man's hand.
Sherry reached the second-floor railing. There was nowhere left to retreat.
The man saw Rex and Will too, his expression furious and tense. He yelled at them, neck straining.
"Get lost! Back off!!"
In that split second when the man turned his head, Sherry's lips curved. Her long, sinuous form moved.
Hand braced on the railing, silver hair flying, Sherry vaulted onto the railing like a big cat under the man's shocked gaze and leapt towards the first floor.
The man reacted instinctively and fired.
BANG!!
"Argh!!!"
Rex's thrown scalpel pierced the man's wrist. Gun and blood hit the floor as the man clutched his wrist, howling.
But no one paid him any mind. All eyes were on Sherry.
Sherry had been hit.
Before the shot, Sherry's perfect, sensual form was airborne. Her necklace lifted, silver curls flying behind her like the wings of a bird of prey.
Now, she was struck down.
Like an eagle with a broken wing.
The force of the bullet shoved Sherry off course. Instantly unbalanced, she plummeted towards the ground floor.
"Sherry!!"
Will's eyes widened in shock as he lunged to the railing to look down.
What he saw made him freeze. Even Rex, holding the bleeding man with one hand, paused.
Someone had caught the falling Sherry. Steadily.
Sherry lay cradled in the arms of a tall man. Blood seeped from her wounded shoulder, her curls dangling, touching the blood.
This man… Rex had seen him during the shootout with the mob.
Andrew.
Andrew sensed Rex's gaze. He lazily lifted his eyes.
"…"
Golden eyes met ice-blue. Rex, holding the man's bloody form, narrowed his eyes slightly.
Both men instantly recognized the cold-blooded wildness in the other.
But the difference was clear: Rex's eyes churned with a ferocious intensity, while Andrew's held a lazy cruelty and an unnerving ease.
Andrew's glance lingered for a moment, a faint smirk touching his lips, then he looked down at Sherry in his arms.
Sherry had been genuinely surprised at being caught by Andrew, but being Sherry, she had her expression composed by the time he looked.
"Much obliged, Mr. Andrew," Sherry said with a smile, gesturing towards the floor. "Mind putting me down?"
"…"
Andrew's golden eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the woman in his arms. He licked his molars, like an intrigued lion.
That look reminded Sherry uncomfortably of being hauled over someone's shoulder not long ago.
Her lips moved, about to insist the man release her.
But before she could speak, Andrew moved.
Andrew straightened up, his powerful arms tightening under her arms and behind her knees. He strode forward, carrying her.
"Hey, Andrew…"
Sherry raised an eyebrow uncomfortably, trying to push herself up in his hold.
"Stop wriggling. Or I carry you like last time."
Despite the threat, he didn't heft her. His iron-like arms tightened, carrying her steadily towards the infirmary.
He kicked the infirmary door open.
"D*mn it! Who the…" Melissa's curse died abruptly as she turned and saw the scene in the doorway.
She watched, wide-eyed, as Andrew carried Sherry in and deposited her on a bed.
Melissa looked like she'd seen a ghost.
Sherry sat on the bed, stifling a laugh at Melissa's expression while stretching gingerly, testing her gunshot right shoulder.
"Grazing shot. Nothing serious," Andrew remarked with a glance, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with one hand. He took a drag.
"Of course. He couldn't hit me."
Sherry smoothed her silver hair, resting her elbow on her bent knee, her crimson lips curving upwards.
Melissa fetched gauze and alcohol to dress the wound. Sherry eyed the smoldering cigarette and smiled, holding out her hand to Andrew.
Andrew raised an eyebrow slightly, then offered his own cigarette to her, an invitation.
Sherry raised an eyebrow in surprise, looking up at Andrew.
Andrew wore a casually charming smile and gestured again with the cigarette in his hand.
Sherry laughed, shrugged, and reached for it with perfect composure.
The cigarette in Andrew's hand glowed, its filter bearing faint teeth marks.
The instant Sherry's eyes fell on the filter, her light green irises flickered almost imperceptibly, a shadow passing through her gaze.
Effortlessly masking the shift, Sherry smiled and reached for the cigarette.
Just as her fingers brushed it, Andrew twisted his hand, withdrawing it.
He fished a cigarette case from his pocket, tapped out a fresh one, and offered it to Sherry.
"Tch. You actually took it?" Andrew chuckled, flicking the ash from his own cigarette before putting it back in his mouth. He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pockets.
Sherry raised an eyebrow. Well, well. She took the fresh cigarette, curling her lips. She lifted it to light from Andrew's. "I dared to take it. Did Mr. Andrew not dare to give?"
Andrew clicked his tongue, rolling his neck.
Sherry smiled, turning slightly to look at Dixie on the other bed, eyes closed.
Dixie lay still, eyes shut, breathing shallowly, small chest rising and falling, body wrapped in bandages.
"Not awake yet?" Sherry asked Melissa.
"Was awake," Melissa snapped, clearly irritated. "Started fussing the moment she knew you'd gone after them. Had to sedate the d*mn kid."
Sherry's eyebrow twitched, a rare flicker of surprise crossing her face.