Page 163 of Cara

“Is it clear… the way back?”

“If they haven’t found the bodies, then yes. I can get us out the way I came, but it’s far.”

A gasp leaves me when I free the final restraint, giving him room to push off the slab. Blood is dripping from his hands onto the floor. Physically swaying, I fear he won’t be able to make it, but we have no choice. Xavier takes the gun I slip into his grasp. Panic surges as we sprint toward the stairs, alreadyhalfway there, when a deafening alarm devastates the silence, blasting through the air.

They pulled the fire alarm. They found the bodies.

All we can do is run. Run for our lives, bolting past the corpses I waged war upon in the break room. The collected rage I had coming in is gone now that I'm no longer alone. I'm anticipating the storm of bullets, bracing for something to go wrong. We’re in the clear until we close the door behind us. Heavy footsteps are marching from the lower levels.

I shake my head. “They’re coming this way. Turn back!”

There’s no chance. They are coming from above, too.

Xavier moves first—choosing the intimidating way down—pushing me behind him. “I’ll cover you. Watch your back.”

It takes a few seconds before Xavier fires a shot, blocking the carnage with his broad shoulders.

All I can think is that we have to get off these stairs.

They’re going to surround us right in the middle.

While Xavier clears the way down, I crouch behind a railing, aiming at the empty flight of stairs above us. When two men fall into my line of sight, I aim at one throat and shoot, losing my footing as the second man tackles me onto the steps. The gun skids across the stairs, almost tumbling through the concrete slab.

His fist slams into my mouth, knocking the breath from my lungs.Fuck.

A sharp ringing in my ears renders me immobile.

The soldier is powerful and relentless, striking again and again. Blow after blow. So engrossed in the violence that he doesn’t notice my hand slipping into my holster, removing a knife to drive into his side. At the impact, he stalls out, and while he’s contemplating how to remove it, I scramble down the steps for the gun, turning it on him before he can catch up. The blood is rushing to my face, but I'm on my feet, pushingpast the throbbing, faintly hearing Xavier bellowing my name from below.

After rushing down a few flights, I'm reloading behind his back, losing bullets from my fingers as I load the cartridge as quickly as I can. As if we’d done this before, I extend the gun to him while he hands me an empty one. While Xavier carves our path, I reload the second gun, knowing that we have a long way to go.

Arriving at the bottom, Xavier wastes no time hurdling me over the bodies obstructing the final steps. We burst into the desolate apartment building, hearing the frantic shouts of men near the docks, warning others of our escape.

When the doors shut, the light vanishes with it.

“Shit,” Xavier gasps.

“Just follow me.”

Just as I hear a door creaking open, there’s a warm gust of breath near my face before a force slams into me, sending me crashing to the ground. I can’t even scream—they’re already crushing my windpipe. I feel the cold end of a barrel press up to my ribs, and my stomach drops at the realization that he’ll pull the trigger. That he’ll do it before Xavier can find me in this pitch darkness. Using all of my limbs to free myself, I manage to send my knee into his gut, using the one second of delayed reaction to flip him under me. My gasps have become painful wheezes, and the room around me is no longer black but a static gray in my lightheadedness.

My brain and body can’t recover fast enough.

There’s a sudden faint glow that brightens the room, attached to the man’s hip. Maybe a call, a text. I’m not sure, but my heart stops—fuckingceases to beat—when that brief flash reveals that not only had Xavier already found us, but he’s shoved a gun barrel so far down the soldier’s throat that the man couldn’t breathe if he tried.

For the first time, ever, I see Xavier in his element, choosingto make this painful. Frightening. A statement. In his eyes, burning with rage, he’s letting him know that this is a punishment for touching me. And most of all, that he fucked with the wrong man.

He pulls the trigger, the noise jarring enough to make me flinch with the man that just died. Instantly.

By the time the glow fades back to black, Xavier is holding my face in his hands, no longer frightening. Just gentle. Just scared out of his damn mind. “Fuck. You’re okay? You sure?”

I’m alive. That’s enough.

He kisses me, hard, like he’s letting out his tension with it. And then we’re moving, racing down hallways, using the slamming window pane as our guide. If we can get outside, we can get away. In here, we’re sitting ducks.

In here, we don’t stand a chance.

The basement door swings open, flooding the space with rain and light, illuminating the man standing in our way, his large shadow sprawling across the ground.