Page 28 of His to Keep

His mind raced, a whirlwind of fear and relief swirling within him. They had narrowly avoided discovery.

But any relief was short-lived. Just as Liam was about to breathe again, he heard the hitman's footsteps slowly move down the hallway, and the door to the next examination room creak open.

His heart sank.

Of course, the hitman hadn't left. He was methodically checking each room on the floor, still on the hunt for Rowan and Eli.

Panic tightened its grip on Liam's chest, and a cold sweat formed on his forehead.

It was clear now: the hitman was going to search through the rooms on this floor one by one until he found them. There was only so much time before he turned his attention to the closet where they were hiding.

And then there would be no place left to run.

Liam had to do something before that moment.

But what?

A desperate idea flashed through Liam's mind.

He was trained to save people. It was what he was best at.

He turned to Rowan and whispered, "Give me your jacket."

Rowan was sharp. It only took a moment before his eyes went wide. He shook his head. "That's too dangerous."

"I know this hospital," Liam insisted, keeping his voice low. "You don't."

Rowan looked at him helplessly, his gaze searching Liam's face as he desperately tried to think of a plan.

He couldn't. As yet another door creaked open at the end of the hallway, Rowan hurriedly shrugged out of his jacket.

His bright, colorful, unmistakable jacket.

Liam stripped off his coat and threw the jacket on. He gestured for Rowan to wait. "Lock the door as soon as I go. Call Zane."

"You don't have to do this."

Liam didn't have time to argue. He listened intently, straining his ears for the slightest sound from outside.

There.Examination room five. He knew exactly where the gunman was — and where the corner at the opposite end of the hallway was, too. He was between both of them, both equally far.

Which meant it was time to go.

Liam's instincts kicked in. Adrenaline surged through his veins, a roaring river of urgency.

He threw the door open and shot out.

He didn't look back. He didn't have to. A second later, just as he threw himself around the corner, a shot rang out.

Glass shattered, people screamed, Liam's heart pounded — and then he heard the gunman's bootsteps, racing after him.

It was exactly what he'd wanted.

And what he was afraid that he'd get.

Chapter eleven

Memories were dangerous things. It was bad when a man couldn't walk past an alleyway without getting hard.

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