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I wanted to argue. To run my hands over him and make sure he was okay. Blood was dripping down his arm, so how the fuck could he possibly be alright?

But before I could do any of that, Kace and Bishop were behind us, and we were running again, slipping deeper into the building. It was some kind of office building, from the small glimpses I got as we hurtled down the hall. The door Kace had shot out burst open behind us, and three big men charged in after us.

“Fuck!”

Bishop grabbed my arm and yanked me sideways as gunfire exploded behind us again. He threw all his weight against a closed office door, and it burst inward. We tumbled inside, and he twisted his body as we fell, absorbing the impact as we hit the ground. He rolled us over and leapt up, calling out to Misael, “Keep her safe!”

“On it,” Misael said grimly, hauling me to my feet and wrapping his good arm around me as he pulled me toward a corner of the room. It was some kind of conference room, with a large table and chairs in the middle and an ancient TV on a rolling stand set against one wall.

Bishop and Misael stationed themselves at the door as Misael dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. My heart beat almost as loud as the gunshots that sounded in the small space, and I couldn’t seem to get my breathing under control. How many bullets did Kace and Bishop have? I didn’t know much about guns, but I knew that even if they’d grabbed backup ammo from the car, they would run out eventually. And when they did, those guns in their hands would be no more useful than fucking paperweights.

“Dammit!” Misael snarled as he held the phone up to his ear. “I can’t get through to Nathaniel. Motherfucker.”

He cursed again, then lowered the phone and tapped on the screen quickly. He’d positioned his body in front of mine, as if wanting to make sure that anybody who made it through the door would shoot him first. His left arm still hung at his side, droplets of blood sliding off his fingers in a steady drip, drip, drip.

“Backup might be a fuckin’ while,” he called to the other two, and I saw Bish turn his head to look at Kace.

The two of them were braced on either side of the doorway, trading shots to keep the men outside at bay. I was pretty sure they’d hit at least one guy, but I wasn’t positive. How many were there? Just the three who I’d seen burst into the building? More? Everything after they had t-boned Bishop’s car had seemed like a blur, as if I were watching seven movies at once and trying to follow each of them.

“I’m almost out,” Bishop murmured to Kace, his voice strained. “You?”

“Same,” Kace grunted.

My stomach clenched, heaving as if it was trying to force its way out of my body through my throat as Misael turned to me, pulling a butterfly knife from his pocket. He flipped it open one-handed, then grimaced as he forced his injured arm to move, grabbing onto the full material of my gown’s skirt.

“I’m gonna cut this off, Princess,” he muttered quickly. “Make sure you can move. They’re gonna get in here any second, and you need to be able to run.”

I nodded, the movement jerky, but he was already following through on his words, grabbing bloody handfuls of my dress and slicing through the fabric at mid-thigh. As soon as the fabric fell away, he kissed me—just once, hard and fast, like a goodbye—then turned around again, keeping his knife out and ready.

Bishop fired once more into the hallway, and there was a grunt and a thud, but whoever he’d hit, it hadn’t been enough to stop the attack. Two men rushed into the room, and shots fired wildly as Kace and Bishop grappled with them. I took a step forward without even realizing I was moving, desperate to help them somehow, but Misael’s arm was like an iron bar, pressing me back.

When a third man rushed into the room, his gaze landed right on Misael. He raised his weapon to shoot, and Misael shoved me to the side as the bullet slammed into the wall where we’d been standing. I sprawled ungracefully across the floor, but Misael regained his balance quicker, sprinting toward the man and slashing out with his knife. He caught the man’s arm, and our attacker gave a pained grunt. Across the room, Bishop slammed one of the other men into the rolling TV stand, still grappling for control of the weapon.

I struggled to my feet as the guy Misael had cut charged toward him, tackling Misael and taking him down. The knife fell as they landed, skittering wildly across the floor toward where Kace was locked in a fight with our third attacker.

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

Misael was weaponless, pinned beneath the man with the gun.

My brain was screeching in panic, completely useless, but my body moved anyway. I scrambled to my feet and dove for the only weapon I could get my hands on—the discarded fabric of my dress.

Holding it in both hands, I looped it around the man’s neck and face and pulled with every bit of strength I had in me. I was nowhere near as strong as the burly man was, but I’d had the element of surprise on my side. He hadn’t been expecting to be suddenly blinded and choked, and he reached up with one hand to pull at the fabric.

Misael didn’t miss his chance.

He bashed his forehead against the man’s covered face, and the scream of pain let me know he’d broken the guy’s nose. Then he grabbed the gun with both hands and twisted, yanking it from the man’s grip. Blood smeared the black metal of the barrel, but his hands were steady as he aimed it.

“Cora, move!”

I released my grip on the dress and hurled myself to the side as Misael squeezed the trigger. The bullet penetrated the luxurious fabric as if it were nothing but air, and red blood exploded behind the layers of the dress. The man slumped over, sticky red blood pooling around his head.

Misael’s wide eyes landed on me, and he shoved the man off him and scrambled up. His gaze tracked around the room quickly, and he called out, “Kace!”

The blond boy was locked in a battle with a man almost as vicious a

nd brutal as he was, and my stomach churned at the sight of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. His attention flicked to Misael, and then he kicked the man hard in the stomach, driving him back a step. Misael fired twice, and the man went down.

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