Malachy's men began firing at the cartel members while Malachy ran for cover. The bullets were flying as fast as the obscenities being hurled by each side. Ortiz changed his course from heading toward Declan and I and retreated back to the kitchen while still firing. Declan grabbed my hand, pulling me from the chair and dragging me behind my couch while the firefight raged on. We could hear members from each side dropping to the floor, either dead or dying, and a shit load of yelling, screaming destruction. Two of the O'Bannion crew and most of the Cartel men were wounded or dead. Malachy and Ortiz were shouting at each other and their men to surrender. Neither complied, of course, and the gunfire continued. The chaos of the moment was beyond surreal. I was shaking and nearly hyperventilating as we sat huddled behind the sofa when Declan grabbed my face between his hands, forcing my eyes to look at his. "Reagan, listen to me. If we want to live, we need to go now. Don't let go of my hand no matter what." He yanked me after him before I could think.
