Chapter 64: The World Filled with Emotions
"Get the fuck off her," Winter barked, his voice a deep, raw growl that reverberated off the peeling walls.
His rifle was still smoking from the single round he had fired to drop one of the bastards. The man he had just shot crumpled to the ground, blood pooling around him.
The rest of the men froze, the collective tension in the room visible. They hadn’t expected a confrontation, let alone a man with a rifle aimed directly at them. One of the men, his hand still wrapped around the struggling woman’s waist, paused and looked at Winter in disbelief, realizing all at once that they were no longer the ones holding the power.
Winter eyes swept over the scene—a scene that twisted his stomach in ways he didn’t want to think about.
He took in the disarray of limbs, the child clutched tightly by one of the men—his face red from crying—and the woman, her body straining against the weight of the attacker pressing her down.
"Drop the kid," Winter growled, his rifle raising an inch to aim squarely at the man’s chest. The man tensed at the sight of the ridle but didn’t move.
Winter’s teeth ground together. His eyes narrowed, lips curling back in a snarl as the instinct to protect rushed through him like liquid fire.
"Did you hear me?" he growled, taking a menacing step forward. His voice was low and controlled, but the promise of violence was unmistakable. "I said, get. Off. Her."
Again, the men didn’t make a move to follow his instructions. The woman had stopped struggling but the ripples of water beneath her said she was terrified.
Without hesitation, Winter’s finger tightened on the trigger again, sending another man to the floor in a spray of crimson.
The men scrambled to find their balance after that, reaching for their weapons. "Don’t fucking move," he warned, cocking his rifle again.