Victor's smooth voice filled the office, the cultured tones at odds with the violence he was orchestrating. "Good evening, Mr. Cassidy. I believe we have some unfinished business to discuss."
The first shots came while Victor was mid-sentence, his smooth threat cutting off abruptly as bullets shattered the office windows. Glass exploded inward, sparkling deadly shards catching the overhead lights like twisted confetti before raining down on us.
I reacted on instinct, diving toward Liam to shield his smaller body with mine as gunfire peppered the walls, wood splintering and plaster dust filling the air.
The calm planning of moments before dissolved into chaos as more windows exploded, the sound of automatic weapons fire surrounding the compound from all sides.
"Take cover!" Butch bellowed, already moving toward the door, gun drawn. "Bear, east side! Gunner, coordinate from the central post!"
I felt Liam squirming beneath me, trying to break free from my protective hold. My bear roared inside me, demanding I keep my mate safe, shielded from the bullets tearing through the office. But Liam was unexpectedly strong, pushing against my chest with surprising force.
"Liam, stay down," I hissed, trying to keep him protected as another burst of gunfire sent a picture frame crashing from the wall.
But he wasn't cowering in fear as I'd expected. Instead, his golden eyes were clear and focused, his movements purposeful rather than panicked. He wriggled free from my grasp and immediately grabbed my wrist—that same urgent grip he'd used in the garden—and pulled me toward the far corner of the office.
"We need to move," I protested, glancing toward the door where Butch and Gunner were already organizing a defensive position. "The others—"
Liam shook his head sharply, tugging more insistently. His face was set with determination, not fear, as he dragged me past the filing cabinet toward what appeared to be a solid wall.
"Liam, there's nowhere to—"
He reached the paneled wall and pressed his palm against it in a specific spot—not randomly, but with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. To my utter shock, a section of the wall slid sideways, revealing a narrow, dark passage beyond.
"What the fuck?" I breathed, staring at the opening. "How did you—"
Another explosion rocked the building, closer this time, cutting off my question. Somewhere in the main room, someone shouted in pain. Bear roared—not a human sound, but the full-throated rage of his shifter form—followed by the distinctive sound of his shotgun.
Liam tugged me toward the hidden passage, his eyes imploring me to follow.
"Hold up," I said, resisting his pull. "Bear doesn't even know about this. How do you?"
Liam huffed in frustration, clearly unwilling to waste time explaining. He gestured urgently toward the dark opening, then pointed back toward the office door, making a gathering motion with his hands.
"You want to... get the others?" I guessed, trying to interpret his frantic gestures amid the chaos.
He nodded emphatically, then pointed down the passage and made a series of turns with his hand, indicating a path through whatever lay beyond.
"There's a way out," I realized. "Through here."
Another nod, even more urgent than before. A bullet thudded into the wall inches from where we stood, sending splinters of wood flying. Liam flinched, but didn't retreat, his eyes fixed determinedly on mine, waiting for my decision.
I found myself torn between conflicting instincts. My bear demanded I get my mate to safety, follow him into the dark passage and away from danger. But fifteen years in the MC had ingrained another loyalty just as deep—to my brothers, my family, the men fighting to defend our home just outside that door.
"I need to help them," I said, my voice rough with emotion. "I can't just run, Liam."
His expression shifted, frustration giving way to a strange understanding. He released my wrist—the first time he'd let go since grabbing me in the garden—and stepped back toward the hidden passage. He pointed to himself, then down the dark corridor, then made a circular motion that ended with pointing back at me.
The meaning was clear enough: he would go ahead, then circle back for me.
"No," I said immediately, grabbing his arm before he could slip away. "We stay together."
The gunfire outside intensified, accompanied by shouts and the crash of furniture being overturned for cover. We were running out of time.
Liam's gaze darted between me and the passage, indecision clear on his scarred face. Then he seemed to make up his mind, grabbing my hand once more and pulling me firmly into the narrow corridor. As soon as we were through, he pressed another hidden mechanism that caused the panel to slide closed behind us, sealing us in darkness.
For a terrifying moment, I couldn't see anything. Then a faint phosphorescent glow appeared ahead—Liam's outline, moving confidently forward despite the lack of light. He tugged my hand, urging me to follow.
The passage was barely wide enough for my shoulders, forcing me to turn slightly sideways in spots. The ceiling hung low, making me duck my head repeatedly to avoid hitting it. But Liam moved through the cramped space with practiced ease, never hesitating at turns or low spots, his slender form perfectly adapted to this hidden route.
