Page 51 of Vicious Temptation

Gunfire erupts from deeper inside the bank, and rounds strike the wall close enough to send debris flying across my shoulder.

“Moving,” I call.

Ryan covers me as I shift positions, and we advance together, cutting off the suspect and pushing him back.

“Drop the weapon!” our lead commands.

The suspect responds with another burst of gunfire, and then I see what’s behind him. A handful of hostages are huddled on the floor. Some are bleeding, others are holding on to each other, but every one of them is still alive.

Adjusting my position, I search for a clean angle that won’t put any of them in the line of fire. We need to end this without another casualty.

I step into the opening he gives me and take the shot, sending him crashing to the floor.

“Clear,” I call, scanning for movement.

“Clear,” Ryan echoes.

“Hold positions,” our lead orders.

I control my breathing and keep my attention on the room. Two suspects are down, but one remains unaccounted for. That’s when I hear it.

A child is crying somewhere beyond the lobby, the broken sound carrying from a corridor opposite the group of hostages.

“There,” I say, motioning toward the dim hallway.

We move together, following the cries deeper into the bank. When we round the corner onto the main floor, the full extent of what happened here comes into view. Bodies are scattered across the floor. Some people lie completely still, while others are curled in on themselves, trembling, their hands covering their heads.

“Police.” Our lead’s voice is firm. “Stay down and keep your hands where we can see them.”

No one moves beyond a few frightened glances our way, and the crying continues.

There’s still one armed suspect in here, and judging by the bodies around us, he hasn’t hesitated to use his weapon. I sweep the room, searching every doorway and shadow before my gaze falls on a small figure crouched near the far side of the room.

Caramel-colored curls.

No fucking way.

I look more closely, and recognition hits me, knocking the air from my lungs.

“Zara?” I whisper.

“Braga?” Grey questions.

I don’t answer right away. I force myself to check our surroundings again before my attention snaps back to Zara

She’s crouched on the floor, blood coating her skin and clothes. One of her tiny hands is wrapped around someone else’s, their body mostly hidden behind a broken piece of furniture.

They aren’t moving, and a sickening thought tears through me.

What if that’s Remi?

I can’t see enough of the person to tell, and with Zara sitting beside them, covered in blood, my mind jumps to the worst possible conclusion. Everything in me demands that I cross the room to reach her, but an armed suspect is still somewhere between us.

“Zara!” I call. “Stay down!”

Her head jerks up at the sound of her name.

A shot rips through the room before I can say anything else, slamming into the pillar beside me. I pull back behind cover and raise my weapon.