“Already on it.” The Escalade surged forward, engine roaring. Xavier’s Aston Martin matched our pace, both vehicles now pushing speeds that would give highway patrol collective heart failure.
The warehouse appeared ahead, a sprawling concrete complex bathed in morning light. Smoke rose from one section—probably Matt’s handiwork. As we watched, another explosion rocked the building, glass raining down like deadly diamonds.
James hadn’t fully stopped before I was moving. William cursed, reaching for me, but I was already out of the car. The sound of squealing brakes and slamming doors filled the air as our entire convoy arrived.
Through the smoke and chaos, I saw him. Matt looked like something out of an action movie, all coiled power and lethal grace. His shirt was more red than white now, his knuckles raw, but he moved like he was barely warmed up. Two men rushed him; one went down clutching his throat, the other flew backward with definitely broken ribs.
“Magnificent bastard,” Ryan breathed from somewhere behind me.
Then I saw Porter. He stood in the warehouse doorway, face twisted into something between worship and madness, a gun in his hand.
“Andy, wait!” Multiple voices shouted as I started running.
Porter’s head snapped toward the sound. His eyes found me, and his face contorted into pure hatred. The gun swung in my direction?—
A single shot cracked through the air.
Porter screamed, the gun spinning away from his suddenly bloody hand. Xavier stood by his car, his own weapon still raised, looking more dangerous than I’d ever seen him.
“Damn,” Ryan whispered. “That’s… that’s kind of hot.”
Matt spun at the sound of gunfire, his eyes finding me through the chaos. Relief and fury warred on his face, making him look like an avenging angel. “Andy?—”
Porter lunged for the fallen gun with his good hand.
Matt moved like lightning. His fist connected with Porter’s jaw with a crack that echoed off the warehouse walls. Porter went down hard, and this time he stayed down.
Then Matt was running toward me, or I was running toward him, or maybe we were both running. We collided somewhere in the middle, his arms crushing me against his chest hard enough to hurt.
“You stupid, reckless—” He buried his face in my hair, his heart thundering against my cheek.
“Says the guy who got himself kidnapped,” I managed, clinging to him just as tightly. “Your shirt’s ruined, by the way.”
He laughed, the sound slightly ragged. “I’ll buy another one.”
“You’re bleeding.” I pulled back enough to see his face, cataloging the damage. A cut above his eye, bruised jaw, splitlip that somehow made him look even more unfairly attractive. “And you look terrible.”
“You should see the other guys.” His eyes swept over me, checking for injuries. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”
“Too bad. You’re stuck with me.” I touched his face, needing to make sure he was real. “Though maybe we need to review your meeting security protocols.”
Around us, the situation was being efficiently contained. James’ men secured Porter and his surviving thugs. Tory’s team swept the warehouse while William coordinated with local law enforcement. Xavier was on his phone, probably calling in favors or buying the warehouse complex or whatever billionaires did after shootouts.
“So…” Ryan approached cautiously. “Group lunch is canceled, I’m guessing?”
Matt’s arms tightened around me. “Rain check. Though you might want to change your shirt first. It’s inside out.”
“It’s a fashion statement,” Ryan defended, then turned to Xavier. “That was one hell of a shot.”
Xavier’s smile was warm in a way I hadn’t seen before. “I have many talents.”
“I bet,” Ryan muttered, flushing slightly.
“If you’re done flirting,” James cut in, “we should move. Police are three minutes out, and I’d rather not explain why half of Vegas’ billionaires are having a shootout in the middle of nowhere.”
Matt nodded but didn’t let go of me. “The penthouse. We need to talk about Porter. And security upgrades. And why my boyfriend thought running toward gunfire was a good idea.”
“Pot, kettle,” I reminded him, letting him guide me toward the cars. “Also, you’re not allowed to lecture me about safety while actively bleeding.”
