Page 132 of Trapped With You

“What if it’s the masked guy?” she whispered.

After everything we discussed tonight, it was possible the bastard came back to finish the job. “It could be.”

“Okay, so I have a baseball bat and you have a gun. Together, we can take this motherfucker down.”

“Didn’t you just tell me that not everything can be solved with a bullet?” I spat incredulously. “Now you want me to shoot?”

“Keep your voice down,” she hissed back. “And if the situation calls for it, yeah.”

“What if it’s not the masked guy?”

“I’m like ninety-nine percent sure it is.”

“And the one percent chance that it’s not?”

“Do you want to go with my plan or not?” she asked, vexed.

“It’s a bad plan. Let’s wait for whatever thatthingis to leave, then we’ll make our way to the North Wing where there’s an exit.”

“Fine,” she mumbled sullenly. “We’ll do it your way.”

“Good.”

A few seconds later, the sound of footsteps faded away like whoever was on the other side decided to retreat back upstairs. We stayed put for another moment.

Ella rubbed herself against me. “You’re hard.”

I clenched my jaw, staring up at the wooden ceiling. “I know.”

“You’re insatiable. I sucked you off twice.”

My cheeks reddened. “It’s not my fault. You’re pressed up against me and—”

“You can’t help yourself?” She snorted. “This is so not the time, Cade.”

“You think I don’t know that—”

The curtain of the confessional was ripped open.

We screamed.

Thethingscreamed.

Then Ella released a battle cry and swung out the bat like a pro baseball player.

It bashed against the intruder, who fell to the ground with a groan that was very masculine and very…familiar.

Oh, fuck.

Ella heaved like a warrior as she stepped out of the booth.

Please, don’t tell me it’s…

When I switched on her flashlight and shone it over the unconscious big body, my suspicions were confirmed.

Ella gasped, cupped a hand over her mouth, and dropped the bat.

My eyes widened in disbelief and I doubled over, yanking at the roots of my hair.