"I promise."
I kissed her, trying to pour everything I felt into it. Love. Fear. Desperation.
"I love you," I said against her mouth.
"I love you too."
"Then trust me to keep you safe."
She nodded, and I forced myself to let her go.
We drove separately. Katrina in her car, alone, like Marcus demanded. Me and Mikhail in a blacked-out SUV five minutes behind. My men were already in position by the time we arrived, invisible in the shadows around the warehouse.
"Thermal's picking up two heat signatures inside," one of them reported through my earpiece. "Second floor, northeast corner."
Two people. Marcus and Shanice.
"Any others?"
"Negative. Just the two."
Either Marcus was alone, or he had backup I couldn't see. Knowing what Katrina had told me about him, I assumed the latter.
"Stay sharp," I ordered. "He's not as stupid as he looks."
I watched through binoculars as Katrina's car pulled up to the warehouse. She sat there for a moment, her hands gripping the steering wheel.
"You can do this," I murmured, even though she couldn't hear me. "I'm right here."
She got out of the car. My heart stopped as she walked toward the warehouse entrance, small and vulnerable in the darkness. Every instinct screamed to stop her. To grab her and take her home and let Marcus rot in hell with his hostage. But Shanice didn't deserve to die because I was too much of a coward to let Katrina go.
"She's going in," Mikhail said quietly.
I watched her disappear through the door, and something in my chest cracked.
"If anything happens to her.” I started.
"Nothing's going to happen." But Mikhail's hand was on his weapon. "We won't let it."
I switched to the thermal feed on my phone. Watched Katrina's heat signature move through the first floor, climbing the stairs.
"Stay back," I whispered. "Don't get too close."
But she was already at the top of the stairs, moving toward where Marcus waited.
"Boss," one of my men said. "I've got movement. West side. Three—no, four heat signatures. Armed."
Fuck.
"He brought backup," I said.
"What do you want to do?"
I calculated quickly. Four men plus Marcus. Five against six if Katrina couldn't fight. Bad odds, but not impossible.
"Take out the backup first. Quietly. Before they know we're here."
"Copy that."
