Page 542 of Rage

Anger flares. “Why? Why should I run instead of staying and fighting?”

“Because you’re Eddie’s baby sister. He’d kill me if I got you killed.”

I keep my scoff quiet. “You have no idea what Eddie would think of that. If I don’t get out of here with both you and Xander in one piece, I can guarantee my brother will never forgive me.”

“You’re worth more than we are. If you knew the amount of blood we each had on our hands...”

“If you knew the amount I had onmyhands, you wouldn’t bother saying such stupid things,” I mutter, and taking my opportunity, I slip away, slinking between stones, ears pricked, only hearing Liam’s soft curse as I vanish from his line of sight.

The fallen floodlight is set to rights, and concern that they’ve caught Xander has me rushing from stone to stone with less caution than I should use. So, all I can do is curse my impatience when I trip over a small figure crouched beside a stone cross and go flying across the dirt and headfirst into a grave.

Is it mine? No idea. But I’m six feet deep and five feet tall, so this isn’t ideal. The lump I tripped over comes to the edge, and I’m staring up at a little kid with big blue eyes and a steady hand on his Sig-Sauer.

“Hello,” I call up, trying to figure out what this kid is going to do with that gun.

“Name,” he barks, his voice high and gruff. Poor thing. At least I was a teen before I was doing similar shit.

“Not important. You going to shoot me?”

“Depends. Are you Cecelia Rodriguez?”

“What do you think?” I ask, motioning at my semi-destroyed, mud-and-blood-spattered formal gown.

The kid looks me over, squinting, so I take my chance, racing toward him and bounding up, kicking off to hook one knee on the edge while I grip both his ankles and tug. He goes flying over me, the gun firing off a few rounds before he hits the bottom with a grunt.

Scrambling the rest of the way out, I look down at the poor bugger. “Sorry, kid. But I’ve got some boys to rescue.”

He sits up, pointing the gun at me again, mud smeared across his childish features. “I’ll kill you,” he says.

“Not today. Who should I watch out for in the future?” I ask, hoping his pride will give me the answers I need.

“Gregor Morozov,” he says, his finger sliding to the trigger as I hit the deck. Rolling away from the grave as another shot rings out, I dodge behind the backhoe they used to dig those holes.

Shit. Morozov. Eddie’s going to be pissed. He invited Nat into our family’s biggest secret, and now she’s trying to kill me. I hope those wedding deposits are refundable.

But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Right now, I need to find Xander.

Following his trail is child’s play after the training I got from my abuelo over the years. Which makes it even funnier that Morozov’s guys haven’t caught him yet. At least the dead body of Pinky tells me Xander is well enough to take on a henchman and win.

Either way, it’s obvious the Bratva don’t send their people to the jungle for live fire training against la Chota for their eighteenth birthdays. I’d asked for a convertible, but it turns out that tracking and guerilla warfare tacticsaremore useful in my line of work, so maybe Abuelo was onto something.

Xander figured out that Liam and I were free, but apparently, he knows Liam has a hero complex, so instead of making a run for it, he turned back into the graveyard, a smear of blood here and there leading me right back in the direction I started.

I never thought loyalty could be annoying.

His trail disappears near an ancient-looking mausoleum, so I climb up to the roof, the rock scraping off the fresh scabs on my wrists and ankles. Once I’m up there, I pose like a gargoyle and scan. Halfway between the gate and the graves, three figurescrowd together, likely trying to decide if we made a run for it or not. If it weren’t for Morozov junior stuck in a grave, they’d assume we’re long gone.

Sadly, I wasn’t as stealthy as I’d hoped, so we’re still mildly fucked. Less fucked than we were an hour ago, but still, they’ve got weapons and nobody with major blood-loss. I can’t say the same for our side.

Motion catches my eye, and with quiet feet I patter to the other side of the mausoleum just in time for Xander to reach it, his steps light as he slips from shadow to shadow. Wishing I could watch him longer, I flop my top half over the edge and tap him on the shoulder.

The muzzle of a Glock finds me before Xander’s eyes, but when he sees me, he stows his purloined gun immediately. Then he pulls me off the roof and drags me against his hard body. “Tell me I can kiss you,” he says, his face pressed to my crown.

Is this a good time for a kiss? No. But is it exactly what I want to do after worrying that he was dead? Yes. Yes, it is.

“You can kiss me,” I whisper, suddenly shy.

Because this is Xander Liu. He might not have beenmychildhood crush, but he was pretty much everybody else’s. And when his dark eyes meet mine, his charisma captures me. I’m lost in his full attention.

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