Page 182 of The Owner's Temptation

I spin, grabbing her hand and tugging her along until a cluster of metal crates blocks our path. I shove her down behind them just as two more shadows close in with fast footsteps.

I hear the click of a weapon being raised—too close. No time to aim.

I surge forward.

The first man rounds the corner. He barely has time to register me before my fist crushes his throat. He gurgles, stumbles, and I grab the barrel of his rifle, turning it into a lever to slam him face-first into the wall. Bone cracks.

The second one lunges—firing blindly.

I’m already inside his guard. My elbow slams into his temple, dazing him. Then my knee rises fast, brutal, shattering his nose. He swings, desperate—I duck, grab the back of his neck, and drive him down onto my knee. He drops like deadweight.

Two more bodies.

I exhale slowly and turn back to find Sienna staring.

Her hands are over her mouth, but I see the shock in her eyes. The tears pushing forward. She just watched me kill two men—one with my hands, one with rage.

I crouch, cup her cheek.

“You okay?”

Her nod is barely there. But it’s enough.

“We’re almost out.”

A gunshot cracks overhead, loud and sudden. I throw her down and cover her body with mine just as the bullet strikes a hanging light above us. Glass shatters, raining down like crystal hail.

She screams—just once—and I feel it vibrate through me.

I twist, shielding her, then rise on instinct—gun raised—and fire.

One shot.

Clean.

The last man stumbles and falls, crashing backward into the broken scaffolding before his body thuds hard against the concrete floor.

Sienna flinches at the sickening sound.

But we have to fucking go.

I grab her, lift her into my arms and run—glass crunching beneath my boots as I move fast and low across the debris field. She buries her face in my shoulder, and I feel her tears against my neck.

The hidden exit is just ahead—disguised by a rusted steel archway and a false ventilation shaft.

I stop long enough to set her down.

Our hands find each other again.

Fingers locked.

I look at her. “We’re almost out.”

Then we run—side by side—into the shadows of the emergency corridor.

My ears are ringing. Every muscle in my body is on edge, every sense tuned for danger. I reach the stairwell door first and press a hand against it, listening.

Silence.

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