“No one in the bedroom!” one of the men calls out. “Let’s check?—”
The explosion of gunfire cuts him off. It's so close, so loud, that I clap my hands over my ears. Through the thin walls, I hear shouting, cursing, the sound of something heavy hitting the floor.
Then Elio's voice, cold and commanding: "Drop your weapons. Now."
A tense silence follows. My entire body is shaking.
"I said drop them."
The clatter of guns hitting the floor is the sweetest sound I've ever heard.
"Diego, secure them," Elio says. "Get them out of here. I want to know who sent them and how they found this location."
"On it, boss."
Heavy footsteps retreat, and I hear a door slam. The cabin goes quiet except for muffled voices coming from the front of the house.
I stay frozen in the closet, too scared to move, until the door swings open and Elio is there, his face pale, a smear of blood on his jaw.
"Annie." His voice cracks on my name. "Come here."
I practically fall into his arms. He catches me, holding me so tight I can barely breathe, but I don't care. He's alive. He's okay. That's all that matters.
"Are you hurt?" I manage to ask.
"No. I'm fine." He pulls back just enough to look me over, his hands running over my arms, my shoulders, checking for injuries. "You're okay? They didn't touch you?"
"I'm fine. I was in the closet the whole time."
His jaw clenches. "They got through the woods. Killed two of my men." The words come out hard, bitter. "This is my fault. I should have?—"
"This is Desmond's fault," I interrupt. "Not yours."
But I can see he doesn't believe me. The guilt is written all over his face.
"We need to move you," he says. "This location is compromised. We need to go somewhere else.”
I bite my lip, feeling a wave of sadness at the thought of leaving this cabin. No matter how terrible the situation has been, we’ve made memories here that feel hard to let go of. "Where?"
"I’m going to take you back to my apartment in the city. It’s the last place he’ll expect you to be—he won’t think I’ll bring you back there. I’ll put as much security there as I can. You'll be safe while we track down Desmond and end this."
His apartment. In the city. Closer to Ronan, closer to everything we've been hiding from.
But I don't argue. Not after what just happened. And it makes sense. Desmond will expect another safe house, one further away, maybe. He won’t expect Elio to take me back into the heart of it all. The reverse psychology just might work.
It’s worth a try, anyway.
"Okay," I say quietly.
He keeps his arm around me as we walk through the cabin. I try not to look at the broken windows, the bullet holes in the walls, the blood on the floor near the front door. Two bodies are covered with sheets in the living room. Elio's men. My stomach turns.
This is what my life has become. Violence and death and running.
All because of Desmond Connelly.
Diego is waiting by a black SUV outside, talking into his phone in rapid Italian. When he sees us, he ends the call.
"The route is secure. I'll have men meet us at the apartment. Two cars will follow you."
