Page 49 of Burn for Me

My body kicks into gear faster than Sam’s, and I rush in front of him, ducking behind large flower bushes and weaving over the stone pathway until my hand is on the handle.

“Clear. Nice and easy,” Sam whispers, so I ease the door open and slip through the small opening. The crunch of leaves makes my heart race, but Sam shuts the barrier before they get louder and we make a straight line toward a large, dark oak wood door.

I don’t need to prove anything because the people who matter see it, but I will show them that I’m worth it.They can trust me now.

“In,” Sam says quietly as he shuts the door behind us. The large room stretches out like a dining room but with bookshelves lining the walls instead of decorations and lush couches instead of tables and chairs.

There’s clutter on one of the sofas that looks like someone sleeps there occasionally, but I hurry around the room to the desk instead of examining the contents and quickly load up the screen while Sam peeks through the curtains and surveys the area.

After several attempts, I let out a shaky exhale.

“I can't get in.”

“Jasmine, do you have that lipstick tube Sharkie gave you?”

I tap my hands along my vest, pull out the lipstick, and nod in response, knowing he can see me through the camera.

“Put it in. I can hack the system from here and download the data,” Moe urges. So, I peel off the color and expose the USB before inserting it into the drive.

“We’re losing time, Moe,” Sam grumbles. I pace behind the screen, studying the flashing hues as it seems to unlock itself, pulling up multiple files before exiting and entering others.

“I can download this shit, but it's all useless.”Moe's words are like a static whisper. Sam loses his patience and starts rummaging through drawers, tossing guns in one around to reveal there's nothing more than weapons, then moves on to the next.

“If they have a decent security system, this will alarm someone. I’m already at seventy percent of this useless shit, so look for paper files while you still have time.”Moe bites out.

Sam freezes and lifts a stack of papers, revealing copies of smaller letters on each sheet. I step beside him, peeking over his shoulder.

“Found it. They're using the ball as an opportunity to expose information.” Relief is almost laced in Sam's voice.

“Grab the files and get out. I was right; I set off a trigger. They'll already know someone’s been in. Just. Go.”Moe yells.

Sam shoves the papers under his vest as I yank the USB from the port, and his hand instantly wraps around my arm, dragging me from the room with his pistol raised. I gasp for breath, feeling like I'm suffocating, but the mask makes it almost impossible to breathe properly.

“They're rushing the first floor; there are more guards—find another way out!”

Sam shoves me into another room and starts working on a window, but he lets out an aggravated growl when it doesn't budge.

“Security systems…they’re, uh—they’re going back up. I can’t get through.”Moe mutters quietly, his voice choppy. It’s not static that signals a lost connection, but rather, it's almost as if his breathing mirrors mine—panicked.

“I’m gone for fucking forty minutes–”I can make out Sharkie's voice, but it cuts out. Raising my gun, I slowly back away from the door. My head darts to the window as Sam tries slamming the butt of his gun against the lock.

“It’s okay,”Sharkie whispers, but the cracking of the window busting cuts the voices off.

“Get out!”Tide finally yells through, and I rush over to Sam's side, but I'm stopped when his hands clasp tight on either side of my face, and his head is against mine.

“Breathe.”Sharkie's voice soothes, but I don't think it’s us she's talking to.

A crash hits the door, so I flinch, but he draws a deep breath, and I match it.

“Aim for the brush; it'll cushion your fall. Once down there, run. Don't you dare wait a fucking minute.”

I open my mouth to say anything, but the door flings open, and suddenly I'm falling backward. Branches and spikes from leaves dig into the few areas exposed from my vest, but it's not enough to stop me from rolling off, pulling out my pistol, and aiming it at the window.

Sam throws punch after punch at a man, but another climbs onto his back. It is fascinating in a horrifying way–he plows through each body that comes at him, but how many can he genuinely handle on his own?

Everyone goes still as Sam raises his hands, slowly turning his attention toward me. Although I can sense the warning in hisgaze, I am frozen. The dim moonlight reflects off a cool metal surface pointed at the back of his head. Slowly, I raise my gun.

I have a shot; all it’d take is pulling the trigger, but Sams's back quickly turns towards me, and I fire without thinking.

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