“I don’t know! Shit,” he murmurs as he lifts up and unloads his clip. “They just ambushed us out of nowhere.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know, Bane.” He’s annoyed with me. I’m annoyed with me. But I have questions.
“Is it the Sirens, you think?”
“Fuck if I know. Probably.”
“Where is Georgiy?”
“I don’t know. Fuck. Where is Kit?” He sounds slightly panicked, and I glance over and launch my knife at a man trying to sneak up behind us through the window. It lands right in his eye socket, and I squeal, clapping my hands together as he topples over. But my excitement dissipates when I realize that we’re in the middle of an attack. That any of my friends and family could be hurt.
That Georgiy could be as well.
“I need a gun,” I tell Jax as I rush over to the man and pull the knife out of his head. It comes out with an audibleschlick.
“There’s one right over there,” he says as I wipe the bloody blade on my boxers. “But be careful. I don’t know where the fuck any of them are. And I don’t know how many.”
I don’t listen to anything else. I just crouch low and make my way to the hidden passageway in the wall. Jax is right behind me, I can feel him breathing on my neck. My hand slides into his, and I squeeze, leading him through the dark tunnel to Anthony’s office. When we get to the opening, Jax stops right behind me, his chest pressed to my back.
“Can you hear anything?” he asks.
“No, it’s too loud.” I pull the lever, and the door opens an inch. I peer through, unable to see anything past the bookshelves.
I slide through, moving in the shadows, Jax behind me, his gun out and swiveling around.
As we inch our way toward the seating area of his office and the place Anthony usually sits behind his desk, we hear it. A quiet sob.
That makes something ugly curl in my chest.
They’re hurting them. Someone I love is hurting.
My vision narrows as I slink forward ahead of Jax.
It’s then I see Anthony on his knees, a gun to his head, Tatum pushed down on the desk, a man standing behind him, a knife held to his throat. Both are bleeding, but I can see that it’s Tatum who is crying. Anthony is stoic. Fury pulses off him. The men holding them hostage are going to die a slow and painful death.
I don’t even hesitate. I refuse to wait and let Tatum be hurt again.
With a twist of my wrist my knife flicks out at the man holding a gun on Anthony, and it lands satisfyingly in his neck. His arm reaches up, grabbing his fatal wound in shock. The gundrops to the floor. It’s all Anthony needs to surge forward, the gun swooped up and drawn. The man holding Tatum widens his eyes, his arm jerking as if to stab him, but suddenly he’s slumped backward, his head nothing but matter splattered across the office wall.
Anthony rushes to Tatum, picking him up and cradling him.
“Where’s Georgiy? Agatha?” I ask.
“And Kit,” Jax croaks.
“Find them,” he bites out, pulling Tatum toward the secret wall panel. I know he’s going to get him to safety and then take care of everything else. He couldn’t stand it if Tatum were injured again.
They disappear, and I grab my knife before Jax and I move toward the office door, listening as more gunshots are fired in quick succession. It’s amazing the police haven’t shown up yet, but it is a remote location. There’s a reason Anthony has gotten away with so much for so long.
Jax flings the door open and peers out, moving in front of me, clearing the space as we make our way toward the kitchen.
There we find Agatha on the ground, hunched over, with Nova, Casey, and Ellery guarding the entrance. Nova has a shotgun, and Ellery is standing there with a butcher knife dripping with blood.
“Is everyone all right?”
“It happened so quickly. Fuck,” Nova says, eyeing Agatha, who has a cut on her forehead.
