Page 273 of Enemies

“Harrison.” Her voice is steady, and I can hate everything in this room except those three fucking syllables from her perfect lips.

She’s held my gaze across a hundred rooms. I’ve always felt the strength of that connection, even if she was fighting me.

I’m coming, I say. I’m going to get us out of here.

But Raegan’s the one who opens her mouth and whispers, “Watch.”

I can’t make sense of the word until she shifts off the couch onto her knees.

No. No, this isn’t happening.

With a chuckle, Mischa works the zipper on his pants. He’s hard, and I want to throw up.

But her eyes are on me, and as I calculate my odds of kicking the guard behind me in the balls and making it out of here alive, her expression stops me.

I’m not watching. I’m listening.

Trust me.

We do this together.

It takes everything in me to stop fighting.

She reaches for his pants and drags them down to his ankles.

He grabs her hair, yanking her face back up to meet his gaze. “Faster.”

“Since you asked nicely.”

I hear something—the sound of voices in the hall.

Then the room erupts.

Rae’s hands move fast, and Mischa bellows in pain. Blood streams from his thigh, where Raegan’s buried the knife from his pocket.

I wrench out of the surprised guard’s hold, fighting the sickening pain in my shoulder, and lunge across the carpet.

I grab Mischa by the collar and hurl him toward the floor.

Mischa’s head cracks against the side of the coffee table, but it’s the gunfire behind me that splits the room.

I’m already diving to cover the woman kneeling on the floor.

30

RAE

The noise is deafening.

Not like a high-decibel sound system, machines made to produce music. This is the sound of machines made to produce destruction.

I can’t count the shots—five, at least. Some from the doorway and some from deeper in the room. Harrison grips my arms, covering every part of me with his body, pressing my cheek against the coarse carpet.

It’s too loud one second, too quiet the next.

I sneak a look between Harrison’s chin and shoulder and see men with badges and guns stream in.

They speak to one another in rapid-fire Spanish, and in my state, I only get one of every few words.

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