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“This wasn’t a job, and you know it.” His unpatched eye flashed with fury, as the muscles in his jaw visibly throbbed. “Deny it. I dare you. This wasn’t just a job.”
“It was.” The words made her nauseous, but he had to believe her. He had to save himself.
Anger leeched from his face. “If it was just a job, bébé, why are you crying?” He cupped her cheek and swiped away the tears with his thumb. Tears she hadn’t even realized she’d shed.
She bit her bottom lip to stop from blurting out exactly what he was to her. Words wouldn’t change anything. Their situation was hopeless. Completely and utterly hopeless.
“Please don’t die with me,” she whispered.
“Nobody’s gonna die.”
Saying the words wouldn’t make them true. But she knew there were some things you couldn’t fight. Like destiny. Like love. And she very much feared that the amazing man in front of her loved her just as much as she loved him. Which meant, he wouldn’t leave her, even to save himself. Stubborn, hard-headed, amazing man.
Their heads snapped to the door as they heard someone try the handle.
“Locked,” a voice shouted.
“They definitely came this way. Try it again.”
He leaned in to whisper. “Follow me.”
Quickly, and as silently as possible, they made their way across the room to a door in the corner. She’d hoped it would take them outside, but it held a staircase down into the rooms beneath the building.
“We can’t go down.” He closed the door. “We don’t know what’s down there and we can’t risk getting trapped underground. There—” He started jogging. “A window.”
“Look.” She tugged at his hand and pointed to the wall. There was a map of the complex with evacuation points highlighted.
“Perfect.” He studied the diagram. “If we head this way, we should see the main gate. We can hotwire a car to take us to the airport.”
If they got through the gate. “You’re forgetting the guards, and the surveillance, and the barricades…”
“I ain’t forgetting anything. I just haven’t figured that part of the plan yet.” He inched the window open and peeked out. “We’re clear.”
Before she could protest, he lifted her up and over the ledge, climbing out after her. She stood, still and silent, pressed against the wall, listening for trouble, hoping it would pass them by.
He put his lips to her ear. “That way.”
Together, keeping low, they ran in the direction of the main gate. The very well-guarded main gate. At this rate, Striker was going to get himself killed. She didn’t care about herself. She was already dead. They ducked into an alcove that housed an emergency exit, one that could only be opened from inside the building.
“You need to listen to me,” she hissed at him. “You need to l
eave me here. You have more chance of getting out by yourself.”
One second, he was scanning their surroundings; the next, he had her body pressed back against the cool metal door. “Stop. Sayin’. That.” His words were barely whispered and still managed to convey his anger. And he was furious. With her. Every tense muscle in his body screamed it.
But she wasn’t afraid of him. She was more afraid for him. Before she could argue, before she could explain why he was being completely illogical, he covered her mouth with his. The kiss was equal parts fury and passion.
“No more talking about me leaving you.” A whispered order. “Let’s go.”
It was impossible to talk sense into him. He was determined to stay with her until the bitter end, holding out foolish hope that he could somehow change destiny. She wished she could spare him the pain of finding out he couldn’t. Wished she could save him from Kane and from himself. Wished…
She shook her head. With hours left to live, there was no point wasting precious time wishing.
…
Striker was closer to panic than he’d ever been in his life. Everything Friday said was true. The odds were hopelessly stacked against them. They were outgunned. Outnumbered. Outplayed. And stuck in the middle of enemy territory.
Basically, they were screwed.
