Page 54 of Kill for a Kiss

I check the custom watch on my wrist. It was an offhanded gift from my contact when I took down my thousandth mark. I didn’t have use for anything sentimental then, but I’ve been wearing the watch to keep exact track of when Elle should eat, drink, and sleep. And now it’s handy for another reason. I click its side buttons swiftly until I see a camera feed. In the grainy, tiny monitor, I can see a motorcycle heading herefast.

I’m on my feet, silent as instinct takes over. I sprint down the hall, to the corner of monitors. The glow hits my face as the feed flickers on.

The bike’s even clearer from these security cameras’ angles. The camera feed crackles as the bike screeches to a stop. A tall, helmetedfigure slips into frame. There’s no hesitation in his stride when he walks up to the warehouse front.

My pulse spikes. Everything inside me feels like it’s roaring into flames, ready to burn the intruding bastard down. No one should have even known we’re here. So how the fuck does he?

I focus on the man on the screen. Whoever this is, they’re fucked if they think they can just come in here. He doesn’t even take his helmet off, even with the tinted visor on at night. What a fucking douche. I wish this moron was Stanley, but that idiot doesn’t wear a helmet. Except when Elle asked him to.That fucker. She’smine.

I narrow my eyes at the screen. The trespasser steps up, pausing at the perimeter.

Fuck this guy. I turn and run to Elle’s room, pushing the door open with one hand, the other already reaching for her. She’s still in bed, tangled in sweat-damp blankets. Her breath is shallow, her body twitching from withdrawal, vulnerable and unaware.

I press a hand to her shoulder. “Elle.”

She stirs, eyes fluttering open with effort. Her confused, frowning lips move, barely a whisper. “Sterling?”

“I’m here.” My voice stays calm, even with my adrenaline rising. “But I have to move you.”

She frowns even more, slow to track the urgency in my words. “What…? What’s happening?”

I don’t waste time explaining. I slide one arm beneath her back, the other under her knees, and lift her carefully. She’s too light in my arms. I feel every tremble, every weakness she can’t hide. But she clings to me anyway.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“Somewhere safer,” I say, moving fast down the hallway.

I adjust my grip to let her head rest against my chest. Her breath brushes my collarbone. My jaw tightens. My heart hammers. Thenshe leans into me without thinking. Without knowing what that means. Even like this, weak and feverish, she trusts me. That trust lodges somewhere deep in my chest, just shy of breaking me.

I reach the hidden door and press my hand to the biometric panel. It scans quick. The lock disengages with a hiss. I move fast, ducking us inside. The air is cooler here. Reinforced concrete and steel packed thick into every wall. No windows. No way in or out but this one door.

I lower her onto a cot. She clings to my shirt with fingers that tremble from exhaustion, her grip desperate. I take her hand, gently and carefully. I pry her fingers free one by one, even though I don’t want to. Even though it feels like I’m cutting off pieces of me.

I put the blanket on her, sealing in what warmth I can. Her eyes track mine, wide, bleary, and beautiful. I look away before I can’t.

I have to shut the door first. The mechanism seals with a thud as I lock it. We’re sealed away behind steel. I check the outside feed on my wristwatch. The screen is small but clear enough. The biker’s walking closer to the front. But Elle and I are all the way in the back, behind walls that are practically bulletproof. And it looks like we got here right on time, because the asshole outside swings out a goddamn tommy gun.

As soon as he levels the gun, he immediately opens fire, aimed right at the warehouse façade. The sound explodes through, even reaching this panic room. Rounds shred through the front. The walls rattle. The cot shakes. My adrenaline spikes, blood pounding in my ears. Fists clenched, nails biting into my palms. This place is off-grid,unfindable. It’s a fortress. It’smine. So how the hell did he find us?

My jaw locks until pain stabs into my temple. I pace the room. Four steps to the cot. Four steps back. I can feel the fury pressing against my skin. Breathing too loud. Thoughts too fast. I disappear for a living. I vanish. I erase my footprints before I make them. Butsomething slipped. Somewhere, I missed something.

Hearing Elle’s nearly silent wince, I glance down at her, seeing her shiver wildly from her fever and the cool steel we’re in. She lies on the cot but doesn’t stir much. She hasn’t lost her composure, even after what Clo’s done to her.

Clo. I clench my jaw, the fury seeping deeper into my bones. That’s why the biker’s here. Because Clo sent him. And it’s not me the biker’s here for. He’s here to take Elle away from me. Clo wants her back, and she tracked us somehow. She’s meticulous and sadistic. She knows just how to get under my skin—

My stomach drops. Ice floods my chest. I take in Elle. She still hasn’t moved. She’s curled on her side, skin pale against the harsh light. With a cold realization and my scowl out in the open, I realize that whatever Clo used to track Elle…isinsideElle.

I fall to my knees beside her. My hands tremor and hover over her ankle, then trail higher, slowly pushing up the cuff of her sweatpants. Faint pink lines trail across her calves. There they are. The faint burns. Old, half-healed scars, mapped across her soft skin. The ache in my chest twists sharp, a sick pull in my ribs. I shouldn’t be the one touching these scars. But I can’t stop.

My fingers tremble, tracing the edges of one barely visible burn. Her skin is warm beneath my bare hands, fragile in a way that makes my throat close. Elle doesn’t remember the fire. Or what it cost her. What it made of me.

Her lashes flutter, eyes dazed. “Sterling…”

Her voice is breathless, sounding so trusting. I close my eyes, trying to breathe, but my name from her lips cuts right through me. The gunfire fades behind reinforced walls, muffled into background noise. It’s irrelevant when the real threat to harm Elle is right here—me.

Elle slowly sits up, looking at me like I hold all the answers. I want to give it all to her. But right now, we need to figure out how we’rebeing tracked. She must see it since my face is uncovered. My guilt, my failure, all laid bare. There’s nothing left for me to hide behind.

“Forgive me, Elle,” I say, low and rough. The words scrape into me. I don’t wait for an answer. I already know what I have to do.