Page 57 of Hide Little Traitor

Reaching for the door handle, I glance over my shoulder to check on the brothers, but instead of locking eyes with either of them, it’s a masked figure in the doorway with his gun raised in my direction that takes my breath away.

I’m frozen in place, terror beating through every muscle, but I can’t move even if I want to.

You’d think after the near-death experiences I’ve had that my fight-or-flight instincts would be better than this.

“Chloe, get down!” Ronan shouts from the closet, a gun I didn’t realize he had on him aimed toward the intruder.

I try to follow his instructions, but all I can do is stare at the weapon that could stop my heart and the way his finger squeezes the trigger with perfect precision you only get from experience.

Whoever these guys are, they’re highly trained.

I brace for pain, but it never comes.

Instead, I’m thrown to the ground with a hard body landing on top of me with a grunt.

Stars dance in my vision at the impact, pain bursting through my body and stealing the wind from my lungs.

Blinking through the dark spots, I stare up into cold blue eyes that flash with concern rather than their usual contempt.

Up close, I notice the dark bruising on his jaw and beneath his eye that I missed when we were in the kitchen, too distracted by the gun he had pointed at Kingston and me.

Without thinking, I reach up and brush my thumb over the small cut on his lip, fully expecting him to pull away at my gentle touch.

But he doesn’t.

Damon stares down at me with a soft expression I haven’t seen on him since we were kids.

Something warm drips onto my arm, pulling my attention from his face and to his arm.

“Did you just take a bullet for me?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off the flesh wound.

I’ve seen enough over the years to recognize one, and I thank a God I don’t believe in that it wasn’t inches to the right.

A smug smirk tugs at his lips, stretching the healing cut at the corner. “Don’t let it go to your head, Duchess.”

He makes no move to roll off me, though, his body still shielding me from any threat that might come.

Ronan drops down beside us, his fingers tipping my face up to meet his eyes.

“You okay, Sparrow?”

I nod, but don’t get a chance to respond before two sets of knees hit the carpet on my other side, causing Damon to huff.

“Gang’s all here,” he mutters.

A soft laugh escapes my throat. Not because we were just attacked. Not even because he said anything particularly funny.

But because despite their hatred for one another, they worked together when it mattered to keep me safe, and my stupid hopeful heart that refuses to give up the ridiculous notion that we could have everything we ever wanted shines bright in the back of my mind.

“Something funny, Mama?” Kingston asks.

I shake my head. “Some wedding you planned for us, King.”

Laughs sound around me, and for a moment I let myself think about what could be.

It’s stupid and impossible, but if there were ever a time to entertain a wild idea like four men who can barely stand to be in the same room sharing me, it’s right after a near-death experience.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX