Hands where they shouldn’t be.
Mouths closer than they had any right to be.
And later—
Yeah.
That part I remember perfectly.
Then morning came…
And so did the reality that we couldn’t stand each other.
Big mistake.
She ducks behind a shipping container as two men break off and go after her.
I don’t think.
I move.
The first one drops before he even knows I’m there.
The second turns—fast, trained.
Not fast enough.
He never gets the shot off.
I grab Mila’s arm and haul her behind cover.
She spins instantly—gun up, eyes sharp.
She didn’t have that in Prague.
We lock eyes.
Electric. Familiar. Dangerous.
Then she says, “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.”
I grin despite everything.
“I get that a lot.”
Footsteps pound closer.
She swears—at least three languages, maybe four.
“You brought friends,” she snaps.
“Nope,” I say. “But you definitely did.”
Bullets slam into the metal beside us.
I grab her again, pulling her toward the edge of the dock.
“Let go of me!” she snaps.
