Protecting me.
The realization sends something dangerous curling low in my chest.
We round the office corridor just as another explosion detonates somewhere near the main entrance.
The blast wave slams through the hallway.
Concrete cracks overhead.
Dust pours from the ceiling.
Then—
The entire corridor shudders violently.
“MOVE!” Clay roars.
The ceiling collapses behind us.
Concrete and metal crash into the hallway hard enough to shake the floor beneath my boots.
The little girl cries harder against me.
I tighten my grip on her instantly.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’ve got you.”
Clay’s hand suddenly presses against the middle of my back, guiding me faster through the smoke-filled corridor.
The touch burns straight through me.
Even now.
Even here.
God.
The secondary loading dock finally comes into view ahead.
Half-open metal doors.
Moonlight spilling through smoke.
Freedom.
Almost.
Then gunfire explodes through the doorway.
Everyone drops instantly.
Clay slams down over me and the little girl, shielding us with his body as bullets rip through the loading dock walls.
The sound is deafening.
Concrete sprays across my arms.
The child underneath me sobs hysterically.
