Page 117 of The Colour of Revenge
Then the sound of a car pulling into the driveway rips through the air.
Both of us snap to attention, our bodies tense, muscles coiled. A sleek black BMW rolls to a stop, tires crunching over the gravel with a finality that sends a chill down my spine.
The door swings open, and a tall man steps out. Black, full tactical gear, head to toe.
“That’s not my father,” Carina mutters, her voice barely a whisper.
I exchange a look with Carina—one shared second of understanding—before our eyes snap back to the driveway. Four more men spill out of the car.
“What the fuck?” I hiss under my breath.
“This is a trap,” I growl, the gravity of the situation settling into my gut like a lead weight. My heart races, adrenaline surging.
“What do we do?” Carina’s voice is steady, but her eyes betray her concern.
My mind goes into overdrive. Five against two? Not great odds.
“We need to get out of here.”
She nods, the same thought flashing across her face. Without a word, we both start backing away from the window, moving in sync. We turn on our heels and sprint for the back of the house.
“We need to get to my cabin. Kai’s there with his car,” I hiss, my voice low but urgent.
The house is a labyrinth—each hallway, each turn, feels like an eternity as we race through the mansion. The backdoor is almost in sight when it slams open, revealing more men—more than we anticipated.
This is bad. This is really bad.
Figures flood inside, cutting off our escape.
I hear the front door explode off its hinges.
We're trapped.
“Guess we’re fighting, Princess,” I remark, my voice laced with dark humour.
We share a look—a brief moment of resignation—before we charge.
I’m on the first guy in an instant, my knife already in my hand. I jab it into his gut with brutal efficiency, his eyes widening in shock before he collapses. I rip the blade out, spinning to face the next one, but he’s already coming at me with a fist aimed straight at my head. I duck just in time, the punch missing by mere inches.
Carina’s holding her own, fighting off two men. She’s wild, unpredictable, but she has the advantage, and she knows it. She’s a force of nature, using their own momentum against them.
I turn my attention back to the remaining men. Another one comes at me, and I drive my knife into his side, but before I can even process the strike, I hear the click of a gun behind me.
Shit.
I turn just in time to see the barrel pointed directly at me.
My heart slams into my chest, and every instinct screams at me to move, to dodge, but there’s nowhere to go.
Knives, I can handle. Fists, I can break. Guns? I’m outmatched.
“Nate!” Carina’s muffled scream has my head turning to see her with a bag being shoved roughly over her head.
I lunge forward, ready to tear through anyone who stands between us, but I freeze mid-step when I feel the cold press of metal against my temple.
“Take one more step, and I’ll put a bullet through both of you.” The voice is low, chilling, like a promise of death.
My heart thunders in my chest, each beat a countdown. My mind races, searching for a way out, a way to save her. But nothing comes.
