Page 73 of How To Catch A Killer … And Date His Best Friend

A flashlight beam catches us as someone yells across the compound. Another guard raises a rifle, and I glance at Maddox at the same time he stares back at me. Then we move.

We forge straight into the madness like this is exactly what our bodies were made to do, evading bullets like mild inconveniences.

The first guard barely has time to react before Maddox reaches him. One second the man’s raising his weapon. The next, Maddox has him folded over and crashing into the dirt.

The second comes for me.

Bad fucking decision.

I grin as I welcome his attack, and as he races toward me, letting off shots through the night, I intercept him before moving like lightning, snapping his elbow and shooting him through the stomach with his own gun. He gurgles, and I use him as a human shield before throwing his lifeless body against his friend and watching them crumble to the ground.

“Well,” Maddox says with a sigh, lunging past a guard and grabbing the front of his gun only to smack it up against the asshole’s face, breaking his nose in an instant. “This is not a very nice welcoming committee.”

The bodies are piling up, and for a second, it looks like we’re actually trying to win. Which is exactly the point. Now I can’t say that I’ve ever purposefully gotten myself captured, but there’s always a first for everything.

The men surrounding us need to believe they’re catching two dangerous idiots who overestimated themselves, not two professionals with a plan to be carted straight into the heart of the lion’s den.

I’m rushed from the left as Maddox is grabbed from the right, and we fight side by side just as we always have. I send someone sprawling into an electric security fence while more guards appear in the distance.

“Seriously?” Maddox grunts. “Is this really the best plan you could have come up with?”

“I don’t recall hearing any of your suggestions at the time.”

He scoffs and keeps himself busy, and I roll my eyes. “Don’t act like you’re not enjoying every second of this.”

An alarm sounds from the main building as the compound is suddenly lit up like the Fourth of July. Flood lights spill across the property, giving away the location of every last guard. And honestly, we’re doing a pretty thorough job.

This is just phase A of the grand plan, and the number of guards we can take out now significantly improves our chances of survival during phase B. As for phase A, I would really like to wrap it up. I’m getting bored of putting down untrained attack dogs. There’s nothing fun or even slightly rewarding in it. At least, not for me. Maddox on the other hand is having the time of his life.

After another few minutes of fighting, I glance toward Maddox. “Think we’ve made enough noise?”

He ducks another swing and pulls his trigger, sending a bullet right between the guard’s eyes, watching his brains splatter out the back. “Almost.”

I sigh and take a step back, letting Maddox have his moment. “Just checking.”

He takes out two more before finally giving in. “Alright,” he says. “It’s showtime.”

The next wave of guards are closing fast, and while this is the point where most people would take their chance to run, we do the opposite, moving closer and putting them in a position that gives them the advantage, and just as they reach us, I intentionally let one of the newcomers get close enough to tackle me.

The impact drives us both into the dirt, the wind knocking out of my lungs as a second guard joins him, then a third.

Across the property, Maddox is laughing at the display. “You’re doing great.”

A rifle butt catches him across the shoulder and he feigns a stumble as if being caught off guard, then he allows them to take him to the ground, hard, the same way they’d done to me, and before long, we’re completely surrounded.

The guards are brutal as they jerk us to our feet and slam the butts of their guns into our backs and shoulders, getting their shots in for their lost friends.

Maddox catches my eye over the top of a particularly nervous guard’s shoulder, his eyes sparkling like the stars in the night sky. “You know,” he says loudly. “I think they’re starting to like us.”

A guard punches him square in the stomach and I let out a sigh. This idiot is going to get us killed before we even get to phase B.

Maddox sputters and snorts a laugh. “Okay, maybe not.”

I lower my head to hide the smile threatening to pull across my face, because despite the restraints, despite the weapons, and despite the men surrounding us, everything is going exactly according to plan. And judging by the amusement in Maddox’s eyes, he more than knows it too.

Twenty minutes later, both Maddox and I are bound by our wrists, dangling from chains like Christmas ornaments on meat hooks driven into the concrete ceiling, our feet barely scraping the floor.

It’s not ideal, but it’s also not the worst situation we’ve ever been in.