Page 189 of Their Arrangement

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t hesitate.

“The fuck out of here.”

She weighed nothing. Or maybe I didn’t feel the weight.

All I could feel was the sound of her breath against my chest—ragged, shallow, broken. Her arms around my neck were barely there. Her grip too weak. Too tentative. Like she wasn’t sure if I was real.

Like she didn’t know if this was over. It wasn’t. Not for me. Not until someone bled.

I carried her through the hallway. Past the broken door. Down the stairs, fast but careful, her body curled into mine like it was the only safe place left.

I didn’t speak. Didn’t look back. Didn’t let myself feel anything but the anchor of her heartbeat, faint as it was, against my ribs.

The Audi waited at the curb, door still open. Engine humming. Headlights slicing the dark.

I slid her inside, lowered the seat, adjusted her carefullyagainst the leather. Buckled her in. Her lashes fluttered. She looked at me like she didn’t recognize this version of me. Neither did I.

I shut the door and rounded the front. Once inside, I shifted the car into gear. No music. No words. Just the sound of the city falling away behind us.

When I reached the garage beneath my apartment, I didn’t wait for the gate to finish rising. I nosed the car through with an inch to spare, braked hard enough to jolt her seat.

She whimpered.

I cursed under my breath. “I’m sorry.”

But sorry didn’t mean anything right now. Not when I’d let this happen. Not when I should’ve stopped it before it began.

I helped her out, carried her again—she didn’t resist. Not once. Didn’t speak. Didn’t cry. Just pressed her face to my neck like maybe, just maybe, I could keep her safe this time.

Inside, I laid her gently on the bed. Pulled a blanket over her. Turned out the lights. Then I left. Walked straight into the kitchen. Pulled my phone from my pocket. Blood still streaked the knuckles from when I punched the access panel. I unlocked the screen. No hesitation.

To: Mason Quinn

Surveillance. Extraction. Recon.

Someone got into her apartment last night. He touched her. Find him.

I didn’t move. Just stared at the screen.

… three dots.

Typing.

Then—

Understood.

I typed again.

Don’t touch him. Not until I get there.

It cost me to send that. Cost me every ounce of control Ihad left. I wanted to destroy him. Now. Tonight. But I needed intel first. I stared at the floor for a long moment. Then picked up the phone again.

To: Royal

“Come to the penthouse. Now.”