Page 113 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

"Change of plans," he whispered, his voice calm despite the tension thrumming through his body. "Safe room compromised. Secondary extraction route."

He guided me quickly down the hallway, away from the stairs, Dakota following behind us, weapon raised and ready. My heart hammered against my ribs as Theo led us toward what appeared to be a dead end—until he pressed his palm against a seemingly ordinary section of wall. A panel slid open, revealing a narrow passageway.

"Service corridor," Theo explained, ushering me inside. "Connects to the garage through a maintenance access. Stay between us."

The passage was suffocatingly narrow, lined with steel-gray walls that gleamed under thin emergency lights tracing along the floor. Every footstep sounded too loud, every breath too sharp. The cold, recycled air tasted metallic against my tongue. Theo's hand stayed firm between my shoulder blades, steadying me, urging me forward at a brisk but careful pace. I clung to that point of contact like it was the only solid thing in the world right now.

Ahead, Dakota moved with fluid, silent efficiency, his broad shoulders cutting through the dark. His weapon swept every shadow, every corner, each movement precise and predatory.

"Almost there," Theo murmured low against my ear, the calmness in his voice barely masking the underlying tension that thrummed through his whole body.

We rounded a corner—and chaos erupted. A figure sprang from a side door, low and fast, the gleam of a weapon flashing under the emergency lights. Everything blurred into instinct.

Dakota reacted before I could even scream. He twisted sideways, one powerful arm slamming into my chest, pinning me and Theo hard against the wall. A gunshot cracked the narrow space. Sparks exploded from the baseboards inches from my hip, the sharp tang of burning wood and scorched metal rushing into my nose. Theo moved like a striking snake. One second his hand was braced against me—the next he had his sidearm up and fired two sharp, controlled shots.

The first bullet hit the wall, sending shards of plaster raining down. The second found its mark. The intruder stumbled back with a strangled grunt, clutching his upper arm where blood bloomed dark and wet across black fabric.

"Move!" Dakota barked, voice razor-sharp. No time to think—only obey. Dakota grabbed my wrist, yanking me forward as Theo maintained cover, his gun still trained on the wounded attacker, calculating every twitch and movement with ruthless precision.

We sprinted down the corridor, my heart slamming so hard against my ribs it hurt. I barely noticed the pain in my bare feet, the cold floor biting into my skin. Ahead, another panel in the wall slid open with a hiss, revealing the dark maw of the garage beyond. The hulking shape of the SUV loomed like a lifeline under the flickering emergency lights. Lucas sat behind the wheel, blood smudged across his jawline, his mouth tight with focus.

"Get in!" he shouted the second he spotted us. Theo shoved me forward, already snapping out quick commands to Dakota behind us. I stumbled across the threshold—and that’s when a second intruder lunged out from behind a column.

Another gun. Another flash of metal. I barely had time to flinch before everything happened at once. Dakota dropped into a crouch between me and the assailant, weapon raised, teeth bared in a snarl. Theo pivoted smoothly, gun tracking the threat. But the voice that cracked through the chaos was unmistakable.

"Down!" Gabriel’s roar split the air like a thunderclap. Out of the shadows, Gabriel emerged—wild and furious, blood slicking down the side of his face from a cut on his temple. His body moved with a raw, brutal force, slamming into the gunman at full speed.

They hit the concrete floor with a heavy, echoing thud. The intruder fought back, but Gabriel was relentless. He drove his knee into the man’s spine, pinning him face-first against the cold floor, wrenching the weapon from his hand and tossing it across the room where it skittered uselessly into a corner.

"Weapon secure!" Lucas barked from the driver’s seat, his gun trained steadily on the scuffle. His voice was so cold it didn’t even sound human. Gabriel jerked the man’s arms behind his back with brutal efficiency, snapping zip ties around his wrists tight enough to make the man grunt in pain. The intruder thrashed, cursing, but Gabriel leaned in low, his mouth near the man’s ear, his voice a lethal whisper I barely caught.

"You picked the wrong house." Dakota never wavered. He stayed rooted between me and the chaos, his gun still up until Gabriel lifted his free hand in a quick, sharp signal—clear.

Only then did Dakota lower his weapon and grab my shoulders again, firm but careful. "In the car. Now," he said, his tone brooking no argument.

I scrambled into the back seat, my legs shaking so violently it felt like they might give out underneath me. Theo climbed in after me, pulling the door shut with a sharpthudthat felt like it sealed us off from the world. As Lucas peeled the SUV out of the garage with a squeal of tires, I twisted in my seat to watch through the rear window.

Gabriel stood over the bound intruder, a dark, imposing figure. Even from a distance, the fury pouring off him was palpable, crackling in the air like a thunderstorm about to break.

He said something into his radio—short, clipped words that sounded like another language in my panic-numbed brain. More shadows moved around the perimeter—backup, probably, sweeping the grounds.

The attacker wasn't getting away.

Not this time.

Lucas drove fast but smoothly, navigating away from the house with expert precision, cutting down dark backroads I barely recognized. Beside me, Theo buckled his seatbelt, then reached across the seat to find my hand. His palm was warm, steady—my anchor in a night that had spun utterly out of my control. I clutched his hand with both of mine, squeezing until my knuckles ached, and tried to steady my breathing.

We were alive. Gabriel and Lucas had stopped them. But deep inside, a dark, gnawing fear whispered:

This wasn't over.

Chapter Forty-Seven

TheSUV'stirescrunchedover gravel as Lucas turned off the main road, headlights sweeping over a narrow, almost-forgotten street. My hands were clamped so tightly onto the door handle that my knuckles had gone bloodless. Every bump, every sway of the car made my heart leap into my throat. I couldn't stop scanning the darkness outside, searching for movement, for danger, for something I wouldn’t be able to fight off.

Lucas slowed as we passed a short row of small brick townhouses, tucked side-by-side like soldiers huddled against the night. They were neat but modest—nothing flashy, nothing that would attract attention. He pulled into a narrow driveway in front of one of the middle units, killing the engine with a low growl. The sudden silence inside the SUV was deafening.

I stared up at the house, breathing hard. It looked... ordinary. A porch light glowed faintly above the door, illuminating a tidy stoop with two small potted plants and a worn doormat.

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