Page 93 of Secret Mission

For about two seconds, I appreciate that gesture. Then I’m over it. It’s hard to keep my tone civil. “But here we are.”

“I tried, bro. Didn’t know you’d be down here with the rats when I took to the tunnel.”

Fuck.

A pressure rising in my throat, I tighten my hold on my twin’s waist. We were never like this with each other.

The Reese Twins. Always together. Trouble times two. Covering each other’s asses for whatever shit we got into.

Now this.

Something in my chest shifts as I process what he said.

He tried to protect what’s important to me. The root of his reasoning isn’t me. He knows I can take care of myself. My team can too. But Allison is another story.

He was protective of Hope too.

More than I wanted.

But would he be a low-life motherfucker and screw my fiancée?

Insides iced over and full of thorns, I focus on putting one foot in front of the next. He leans hard on me.

“Thanks, brother.”

A nod is all I’m capable of.

"Guys..." Allison's voice calls nervously from behind us where she's bringing up our six. "Anyone else hearing footsteps?"

"Hustle, guys." I adjust my grip on Axle. "Justice, let’s make a turn."

We veer left at the next junction, the echo of a slow, steady pursuit growing louder.

They’re not running. And I’m not ready to sprint with Axle at my back. Because he sure as hell isn’t going to be running anywhere.

His breathing is labored, but as long as we’re steady, he keeps pace, long legs matching mine, stride for stride. Tough bastard.

"Almost there." Justice's red beam sweeps the passage as he looks around. "Our emergency exit should be—right there!"

A metal ladder—painted black and white—gleams in the light.

Highway to heaven.

Above us, a manhole cover blocks our escape. Only a small circle of daylight from shining down.

Throwing up a silent prayer that this is a good exit, and that we’re going to be extracted soon, I lean Axle against the wall.

He watches silently as I scramble up the rungs.

“Heavy son of a bitch,” I grind out.

The manhole cover scrapes against asphalt as I shove it aside. Thankfully, to a quiet street.

Step one done. But before I can descend to help everyone else, a shadow looms over me, making my hand go to my gun.

“The cavalry's here. Put that peashooter away,” Beast grumbles above me as his massive form fills my entire field of view.

Big bastard. He has a way of being right on time.

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