Chapter 46
forty-six
Natalia
I’m not as brave as I thought I was.
The moment the bullets start flying, my knees begin knocking together, the deep shaking clinging to me even until I’m behind the cover of friendly fire.
I hide behind a hulk of old machinery, flinching when Dom peeks over the edge of the metal assembly motor and starts firing.
I almost feel the pops of his rifle in my bones, but I can’t bring myself to clench my eyes shut. I need to see.
I need to see where they took him.
Matias was dragged away the moment the bullets started flying, his beaten body stumbling through the smoke grenades until the only thing that remained was the chair he was handcuffed to.
“Get your ass behind cover!” Dom shouts, giving me an unamused look as he reloads.
“It’s not enough that you snuck out and waited until dawn to have your little friend tell us about this harebrained idea?
” Nolan is a few paces away, almost unrecognizable, covered from head to toe in full tactical gear.
But I still make out the enthusiastic nod.
“Jake and I didn’t appreciate waking up having Bee standing over us, by the way!” He calls out. “You’re lucky she makes a compelling case and the DA ate this up!”
I give them a guilty look. “What’s the saying, again? It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission…?”
We all tense when a retaliatory wave of bullets pelts off the machine in front of us, the ping of a ricocheting bullet whizzing past us. Dom clenches his weapon and almost smiles, shaking his head at me.
“Your sister is waiting outside. Good luck telling her that.” And although terrifying, the thought puts a little air beneath my wings. The cavalry is here, Sylvia is outside. Matias is somewhere in this building, and we’re going to get him out alive.
And then all of this will finally be over.
“Alright, stay here. We have to push further into the building. Evelyn and Shaw are right behind us—okay? Do not move.” Nolan commands, giving me a look that suggests he’s planning to handcuff me to the machine.
“Okay—okay.” My newfound, risk-taking nature is bold, but not bold enough to go dancing in a field of bullets.
Nolan and Dom talk into their radios, coordinating their move.
I can’t quite make out what they’re saying, but in moments, bodies materialize from the far corner of the room.
They move towards us, helmeted shapes firing at the hired guns on the other side of the warehouse as Dom and Nolan dart behind the next set of metal beams up ahead.
Dom reaches into his vest and flings something across the room, the light of a flashing grenade exploding a moment later. When I catch my breath, the squad’s second in command is crouched beside me, offering me an easy smile as he reloads behind cover.
“Hi, Sergeant Shaw.” He looks worlds different in the field. Gone is the fatherly, salt and pepper commander who gives the boys shit. The senior officer is in his element, barking orders and firing well-placed shots in time with the junior SWAT operators ahead of him.
“You caused quite a stir this morning.” He listens to something in his earpiece before nudging me with a cheeky smile.
My mouth opens on a reply, a mindless babble to calm the racing beat of my heart, but the bullets don’t let up. We duck when another bullet ricochets off the metal beam behind us, except this time, it doesn’t go flying at the brick walls.
Shaw cries out beside me, suddenly crouching, clutching at his leg.
My heart drops into my stomach. I crouch with him, looking behind us to find Evelyn frantically trying to reach us, pinned in place by the enemy.
“Where did they hit you?!” I lean over the senior officer, my hands trembling as I tug on the weather-proof fabric of his pants.
There’s a hole high in his thigh, blood gushing at a rate that just…
doesn’t look right. I look up at him, my heartbeat echoing in my ears when I notice he looks a little paler than before. We may not have long—and he knows it.
Shit.
“I’ll help you get out of here. Come on.” Shaw hesitates, only for a moment, before acquiescing. He slings his arm across my shoulders, his weight making us sway as I try to bear as much of his weight on my aching legs.
“Wait.” He instructs, chest fluttering up and down. There’s an odd beat of silence, something happening in their communications systems that I’m not privy to.
“Now.” Every rifle on our side goes off at the same time, Evelyn darting past us and taking up the space behind the assembly machine as we move towards the blasted door downstairs. The pelting becomes more distant and muted with each step we take, Shaw’s injured leg dragging on the concrete floor.
“Wait. Wait, I need a second.” He gasps, hobbling over to the brick wall and catching his breath. Blood darkens the fabric of his pants, a small trail of it dripping down the path we came.
“I…I don’t think we have a lot of time.”
He nods, a fleeting smile passing across his face. “Haven’t gotten shot in a while. Body can’t quite keep up like it used to.”
I paste on my best encouraging smile, waiting for the inevitable moment where he drops like a stone. A loud, rocking bang from the firefight upstairs captures our attention, our eyes fixing on the ceiling as dust rains down on our heads.
I motion to his earpiece. “Do you hear anything?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing of importance.” Shaw takes a fortifying breath and then leans on his feet again with a groan. “Okay, I’m ready, let’s?—”
A figure darts up from a corridor up ahead, the only warning we get before he takes aim and starts firing at us.
I lunge to the ground, rocks and pieces of glass digging into the palms of my hands as I scramble for cover.
Shaw takes a spot behind a column a few feet away—and in the blink of an eye—the officer and I are separated.
The layout of the building on this floor is a big circle, the annex in the middle of the room forking off into a series of darkened corridors and hallways.
I have no way of knowing which way is safe.
“Natalia, run. Go north! I’ll be right behind you!” Shaw’s voice echoes in the cavernous annex, and I don’t question his order. I barely round a corner into the hallway when shots ring out behind me. I let out a garbled scream, taking cover in the hallway as bullets pelt the bricks above my head.
Just keep running. Keep moving.
I tell myself, tamping down the urge to turn on one foot and run back inside empty-handed. I don’t care that I don’t have a gun. Shaw is perilously injured.
It’s not like I expected Bryce to roll on his back and give himself up. But this…I can’t live with myself knowing people died in the wake of all this because of me.
The pelt of bullets echo in the distance as I slow, heralding a warning that a wiser version of me would listen to.
I slow, shifting my weight from one foot to the next, deliberating what to do next when I hear it.
The echo of distant voices, masculine, the rasp of a baritone I can pick out in my sleep.
I follow the distant strains, tip-toeing into a service staircase, poking my head out and looking up at the concrete and metal structure above me.
All the way on the landing at the top, shadows slip from one side to the next, their conversation too distant for me to hear.
But as I peer into the distance, one of the silhouettes is unmistakable.
I begin climbing the stairs before the nerve-wracking shivers get me. The stairs seem to go on forever, but my racing heart doesn’t notice, carrying me up with silent steps until I’m all the way on top.
Matias spots me first. His broad shoulders freeze, swollen eyes widening through the black steel railings, his head shaking ‘no’ back and forth ever so slightly.
When is he going to learn that I never listen to a word he says?
I approach the top of the landing, planning where to step next to remain silent. A glass bottle glimmers a step away, faded green shining in the sunlight streaming through the big windows. I snag it off the ground, holding my breath and hiding behind a pillar.
“Pick up—pick up.” Bryce mutters absentmindedly, ending his call and immediately placing another. His boots drag against the floor as he paces from one side of the landing to the other—alone. Completely alone and unprotected, save for the gun in his hand.
I raise the bottle high over my head, peeking around the corner when Bryce’s back is turned, and?—
“Why the fuck is LAPD SWAT swarming the building?!” Bryce explodes, his shouts echoing all the way down the landing.
He turns on one foot, and I barely have enough time to conceal myself as he goes off on whoever is on the other end of line.
“The key you gave me is wrong!…It’s wrong!
The moment we tried to decrypt it, the drive wiped itself!
” I peek around the other side of the pillar, meeting Matias’ gaze, waving my bottle in the air.
We’ll have to time this right for it to work.
Matias gives me a hard look, eyes flying up to Bryce, measuring his gait, his body coiling with energy.
I move the second Bryce paces away from me. Before the nerves grip me by the throat and my limbs turn to molasses. I scatter onto the landing, raising the glass bottle high in the air and swinging down with all of my might.
Bryce’s hands are too full to stop the impact. The glass bottle cracks on his head, the green glass shattering into a million pieces. Matias reaches for his gun, using the distraction to wrestle the gun away from him.
But Bryce isn’t giving up without a fight.
His phone skitters on the ground as he grapples for the weapon.
I search the floor wildly for something to use against him, cursing when I don’t spot as much as a pebble.
Matias charges Bryce against the railing, grunting with exertion, the heart-shattering pop of a shot going off between them.
I freeze.
The icy fist in my chest eases when Matias elbows Bryce in the nose and then goes for his wrist. The disgraced agent screams when his wrist snaps back unnaturally far before giving up with a stomach-curdling crunch.
Finally, the gun falls from his hands. It falls between the spokes of the railing, the metal clanging on the way down.
We stare at it silence as it scatters two floors below us. Bryce looks at it, then turns to me, his face puce with rage.
“I should have killed you when I had the chance.” He growls, blood dripping from his mouth. “You smug, little meddling bitch.” He lunges for me, something metallic flashing in his hand. My stomach drops as I fall backwards, the knife soaring in the air between us. I move fast—but not fast enough.
The knife in Bryce’s hand slashes through my forearm, white-hot and blunt. I fall backwards, down the stairs, scrambling for hold on the railing, slashed arm and all. My ankle twists on the way down, the harsh bite on concrete scraping my arms and legs, an achy pang striking me all over.
“Natalia, run!” Matias grapples Bryce for the knife, blood dripping from his hands.
“I’ll be right behind you!” But Bryce is out for blood, his crazed eyes fixed on my retreating form.
He moves like a bull in a china shop, and Matias is strong, but after the beatings he’s taken, his energy is slowly dwindling.
I’m still not ready for the moment Bryce swings the knife down between them, glinting metal cutting through the air, and embedding itself in Matias’ stomach.
“No! Stop it!” It takes a moment to register the banshee-like shrieking is coming from me. Matias grunts, still moving—still fighting—but he’s losing steam. He’s losing—and he’s not going to make it.
My legs spur into motion before the rest of my brain does. I fly down the stairs, ignoring the screaming ankle, stumbling to a spot two floors down. My chest heaves as I look at the gun—and run back upstairs.
“What are you doing here? I…I told…leave!” Matias growls, blood soaking the front of his shirt, pinned against the railing. Bryce uses the opportunity to destabilize him, knocking him to the ground and standing above him victoriously. Like a shark honing in on the kill.
“Let him go!” My voice shakes in my own ears, maybe more than my hands do. I bring the gun up, gulping thickly, the metal terrifyingly cool in my hands. Heavy and blunt.
Bryce spares me a glance, his bloodied face taking on a defiant smirk.
“You won’t do it. I read the field report from the ambush, you know.
” He drawls. “You couldn’t even kill a man point blank.
You’re no killer.” He waves his knife in Matias’ face, so bloodied and bruised I barely recognize it.
“Why do you think this asshole likes you so much, hm? Cause you’re everything he’s not.
Too weak to kill. Too dumb to leave when you have the chance.
” Bryce spits out. “It’s a match made in fucking heaven. ”
Matias’ head falls to the side weakly. His gaze fixed on me as Bryce heaves the knife over his head, aiming straight for his heart. Making sure I’m the last thing he sees when he goes.
He is willing to die for me.
And I am willing to kill for him.
I raise the gun and squeeze the trigger.
And this time, my hands don’t shake.