Page 84 of Crown of Lies

My heart races, adrenaline flooding my system. I grip the stolen gun tighter, my knuckles turning white. I’m not dying here. Not in this dirty fucking warehouse. Not at the hands of these Young Killer bastards.

I grit my teeth, pushing down the whirlwind of emotions Nico’s words stirred up. There’s no time for that now. I need to focus, need to survive.

Taking a deep breath, I steady my hands. The weight of the gun is reassuring—as long as I’m holding this weapon, I still stand a chance.

But honestly? Even without the gun, I’d fight bare-handed if I had to. I managed to hold my own against them until Nico and his seconds got here. I would’ve found a way to hold on for longer if I’d needed to.

I turn to him and gesture to the top of the shipping container. “Give me a boost.”

His eyes widen. “Are you crazy? You’ll be exposed up there!”

“Trust me,” I insist, keeping my voice steady in spite of the chaos all around us. “I need a better vantage point.”

He hesitates, then shakes his head. “No. It’s too dangerous and?—”

“We don’t have time to argue,” I cut him off. “Do it now, or we’re all dead.”

He clenches his jaw, clearly conflicted, but nods. “Fine. But be careful, dammit.”

Nico interlocks his fingers, creating a foothold. I place my foot in his hands, gripping his shoulder for balance. With a grunt, he hoists me up.

I scramble onto the container, immediately flattening myself against the cool metal surface. My heart pounds in my ears as I army-crawl to the edge, keeping my profile as low as possible.

From up here, I have a clear view of the warehouse floor. The Young Killers are scattered, using whatever cover they can find. They’re focused on Nico and the others, unaware of my new position.

Perfect. Time seems to slow down as I line up my first shot. Exhale. Squeeze the trigger.

The crack of the gunshot is deafening. My target drops.

Before the others can react, I’ve already moved on to my next target. Two more shots, two more bodies hit the ground.

Confusion ripples through the remaining YK members. They can’t pinpoint where the shots are coming from, and that hesitation is all we need.

“Now!” I shout, my voice echoing through the warehouse. “Go!”

“Cover me!” I yell, scrambling to my feet.

Without waiting for a response, I sprint across the top of the container and leap off the edge. The ground rushes up to meet me. I hit hard, tucking into a roll to absorb the impact. Pain flares through my shoulder, but I push it aside, springing back to my feet.

Nico grabs my arm, steadying me. “This way,” he shouts over the gunfire, pulling me toward the far corner of the warehouse.

We run, weaving between crates and machinery. Atlas and Killian flank us, providing covering fire as we go. My lungs burn, and my legs feel like lead, but I force myself to keep moving.

“There!” Killian points to a metal door barely visible behind a stack of pallets.

We’re so close. Just a few more yards and?—

A burst of gunfire erupts from our left. We dive for cover as bullets tear through the air where we were just standing.

“Shit!” Atlas snarls, peering around the edge of a forklift. “They’ve cut us off.”

I risk a glance. At least six Young Killers have positioned themselves between us and the exit. We’re pinned down, outnumbered, and quickly running out of options.

Just as it seems like we might actually be fucked, the warehouse explodes into chaos.

The main doors burst open with a thunderous crash. Figures in familiar colors storm in, guns blazing. The cavalry has arrived.

“About damn time,” Nico mutters, a grin spreading across his face.

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