A Deadly Betrayal✔ [Completed]

Chapter Twenty One

The buzzing in his ears drilled through his skull with the speed of a bullet. He blinked. Once. Twice. But nothing seemed to clear his blurry vision.

Andy tried to move his legs, but they didn't cooperate. What in the hell happened? His back ached and his arms twitched as spasms racked from his shoulders right down to the tips of his blackened fingers.

One moment he was walking into an abandoned house where they had to make the drop-off and then he was sailing through the air, heat blasting in his face and the deafening sound booming in his ears.

Gregg. The men.

Oh, no. Please no. They all had walked into an ambush. It was all a trap.

The money.

Gritting his teeth, he dragged himself into a sitting position. Andy squinted through the debris and ash floating around him. Smoke so thick clouded his surroundings.

Something wet and sticky trailed down his temple. Willing himself to ease the shaking of his hand, he reached up to wipe the substance away only to cry out in pain.

Blood. By the feel, a deep gash on his temple was badly in need of stitches.

Hot, blinding pain snaked around his head like a metal band. Andy grabbed his head and doubled over as waves of excruciating pain racked his body.

"Gah!" he cried.

Shit. He must have hit his head hard to feel this amount of agony. When the pain was bearable, he pushed himself back into a sitting position and glance around.

"Gregg?" he shouted.

The smoke wasn't so thick now, he could see a little more clearly. "Gregg?" he called again.

No answer.

Andy's mind tried to fit the pieces together to figure out what went wrong but with the ringing and the fogginess in his brain, he knew he would come up empty-handed.

"Help me! Somebody, please help me!"

The pain-filled voice reached his ears, and he jerked in the direction it came from wrenching his leg at an awkward angle. Fiery pain lanced up his leg so fast he didn't have time to cry out.

"Help me!"

"I'm coming; hold on."

Andy tried to stand but his legs wouldn't move. "Shit!" he muttered.

He reached down and tried to push the-door?

God help him. A burning-a smoking door was laying across his legs. How in the hell didn't he feel the heat?

Adrenaline? It had to be, or he had lost feeling in his legs.

Was he paralyzed?

Don't be an idiot Andy! He scolded himself. His legs were fine. With the trauma, his head suffered not-so-long-ago he probably lost some of his senses.