Her name and face flashed through my mind, helping me refocus on the mission. I was here to save her.
I turned back around to face a large open area with old, broken-down machinery. But then I froze.
A man stood a few feet from the door, and it wasn’t Amos Anderson.
For a second, my brain couldn’t process what it was seeing.
“Nolan?”
His expression was hard as stone and all wrong.
“He sent me in case you made it out.” His voice was flat. “I’m supposed to—” He swallowed. “I’m supposed to take care of you.”
He reached behind him, pulling something out of his waistband.
I knew what it was, but I didn’t want to believe it. This couldn’t be happening.
Nolan pointed a gun directly at my chest.
My heart rate kicked into overdrive. This hadn’t been part of the plan. “Nolan,” I said, voice no louder than a whisper. “What are you doing?”
A flash of devastation crumpled Nolan’s face, but it was gone just as quickly. “I’m sorry, Roman,” he said, but he didn’t lower the gun.
This was Nolan. Jess’s brother. I’d thought of him as my own brother, too. How the hell had we ended up here?
I didn’t have time to ask him anything else before August stepped in front of me, blocking me with his body. “I’m afraid I can’t let you hurt my brother,” August growled.
Nolan gritted his teeth. “It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “He doesn’t want any of you walking out of here alive.”
His hand tightened around the grip, but he didn’t pull the trigger. Regret flickered across his face, and that brief hesitation was all the opening we needed. I was still frozen, barely breathing, as my brothers all moved at once.
Fox surged forward, swinging the piece of metal we’d used on the door at Nolan. He tried to dodge, but he wasn’t fast enough. The metal cracked hard against his arm, slicing open the back of his wrist and making him drop the gun. As Nolan cried out in shock and pain, August lunged for the weapon. Nolan recovered enough to kick August right in the temple and he went down, crumpling to the floor.
That snapped me out of it.
I rushed forward. I had no idea what Nolan was here for or why, but I had to protect my brothers. I reared back and landed a punch on Nolan’s jaw, the skin on my knuckles splitting. He staggered but didn’t go down. When he got his bearings, he kicked out at me. I dodged his first few attempts and swung at him, but Nolan blocked and caught me with a punch to the right side of my face—white sparks burst across my vision.
Just as Nolan went to hit me, Graham crashed into his side, knocking him off-balance.
“Don’t move,” Fox barked, his voice sharp and commanding. We all turned to see Fox standing, gun raised—the one Nolan had dropped.
Nolan stilled.
I glanced around the room, taking it in: August was still down but on his knees, blood dripping down his face. Graham had positioned himself behind Nolan, making sure he couldn’t run in the opposite direction. My cheek throbbed, but I didn’t think I was bleeding. The fire in the storage room was growing fast—flames licking through the gap in the doors we’d broken through. Heat pressed at my back, a grim reminder that time was running out.
We needed to get Palmer and leave here. Fast.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Fox snapped at Nolan. “Put your hands up, and listen to our instructions. You’ll come out of this fine.”
Nolan’s chest heaved as he wiped at his bleeding mouth. He was shaking. “No, I won’t be fine.”
“Nolan, stop this!” I shouted, my voice cracking.
Something in the way his expression shifted signaled to me this was about to go very bad. My heart shuttered.
“I’m sorry.” Nolan sounded absolutely wrecked. “I can’t go back now.”
And with that, Nolan rushed at me, his face twisted with rage and sorrow. There was a gunshot—I flinched—and Nolan crumpled to the ground.
