The warehouse is becoming a kill zone.
And somewhere inside—
Hannah’s trapped in the middle of it.
“I’m done waiting,” I snap.
Russ’s grip tightens slightly.
“And if you charge in blind and die before reaching her?”
The words hit hard because they’re true.
I hate that they’re true.
Gunfire erupts again from the warehouse entrance.
Then—
A child bursts through the smoke-covered loading doors crying hysterically.
And right behind him—
Her.
Everything inside me stops.
Hannah shoves the little boy behind an overturned concrete barrier just as bullets rip through the metal doors behind her.
Dust and sparks explode around her.
My heart nearly stops.
Jesus Christ.
She’s covered in blood.
Not all hers.
Please not hers.
Her hair’s pulled back roughly, dirt streaked across her face while she crouches protectively over the terrified child like she doesn’t even realize bullets are still flying around her.
Exactly the same damn woman who would run into danger for everyone else before herself.
My chest tightens so violently it almost hurts.
“Hannah,” I breathe.
She looks up sharply at the sound of fresh gunfire nearby.
And even from this distance—
Our eyes meet.
Everything else disappears.
The street.
