Chapter Thirty-Two
The smoke hadn’t finished clearing before Kayne was moving. He didn’t wait for visibility or confirmation. The second there was a hole big enough to fit a man through, he bolted, boots crunching over broken concrete, gun up and leading as instinct took over.
Hesitation was a luxury for people who weren’t already too late.
Anja was right on his six with Leo behind her.
The space beyond the wall opened into a brutal warren of rooms, concrete floors, exposed wiring, and narrow hallways branching in too many directions.
It wasn’t a basement. It was a maze designed to eat time.
Kayne’s pulse slammed hard as he scanned left, then right, then straight ahead at doors and open frames that disappeared into shadow. Every instinct screamed that he was losing time with each second he stood there not choosing.
“Split up?” Leo asked, already pivoting.
“No,” Kayne snapped. “Stay together.” Getting separated was how this place won.
He moved forward fast, clearing the first room in a blink.
Empty. The second was packed with construction equipment: power saws, drills, compressors, all the things that had been stolen earlier.
In the next room, rusted chains lined the walls.
Dozens of them. Thick links, scarred and pitted with age, bolted deep into the concrete.
Some still swayed from the concussion, scraping softly, metal whispering against stone like something alive trying to settle.
They hung loose now. Unoccupied.
Rage flared, hot and blinding, threatening to override discipline. He shoved it down. Fury could wait. Chloe couldn’t.
Another empty room. Another narrow hall. This place had been built to confuse, to funnel anyone who came looking into doubt and dead ends.
Kayne turned a corner, weapon sweeping, and then he heard it.
A scream.
It was high, rough, and terrified.
“Danica,” Leo breathed.
Kayne was already running.
The sound tore through him like a blade, clean and merciless, and he followed it without hesitation, lungs burning, boots pounding, and every thought collapsing into one singular command:
Hold on, Chloe.
#
Aiden shoved Chloe into a space without a door. It was dim except for a bulb hanging from the ceiling directly above a woman slumped in a chair, hair tangled, eyes wide and glassy with fear.
“Danica. Are you okay?” Chloe rushed the words, already moving toward her. “Are you hurt?”
Danica sucked in a shaky breath. “Chloe?”
Aiden made a strangled sound behind her that was pure fear.
His eyes darted to the ceiling, to the walls, to the doorway they’d just come through.
Sweat slicked his temples, his breathing uneven.
The careful cadence he’d wrapped himself in earlier was gone, replaced by something feral and unraveling.
The sound hadn’t just rattled the building, it had rattled him. He knew someone was coming.
The moment stretched, and then he lunged.
Chloe barely had time to register the movement before he slammed into her, knocking her sideways. Danica screamed as the gun came between them, Aiden’s finger tightening on the trigger as they grappled.
“No!” Chloe shouted, driving her shoulder into his torso and twisting hard, the way she’d taught a thousand people how to brace and pivot under load. Core tight. Feet planted. Use momentum, not muscle.
The gun went off, the crack deafening. The bullet shattered the overhead light, glass exploding in a rain of sparks as the room plunged into darkness. Chloe cried out as they hit the floor, rolling and limbs tangling, the sharp bite of gunpowder flooding her nose.
She didn’t think. She moved. Elbow to his ribs. Knee up. Heel driving back. Everything she’d ever taught about balance, advantage, and breath came instinctively now. Aiden grunted, the gun skidding away across the concrete. She jumped to her feet to grab it, but he was scrambling too.
Light from the hallway outside the room flashed on metal.
A knife.
She gasped as he slashed wildly, the blade catching her arm in a searing kiss of pain that stole her breath. She stumbled back, heart pounding so hard it hurt.
Blood slicked her skin, warm and shocking.
“Chloe!”
Kayne burst through the doorway, a force of nature with his gun up and eyes blazing. He hit Aiden full-on, slamming him into the wall with bone-jarring force that rattled the room.
“He’s got a knife!” Chloe shouted, panic tearing through her as she scrambled toward him. “Kayne, he’s got—”
Her words tangled as Kayne hauled Aiden off the ground, fury radiating from him, the fight far from over.
Chloe could only pray Kayne heard her in time.
#
Kayne hit the doorway at a dead run.
The dim room was half-lit by the hallway lighting, but he saw them instantly. Chloe and Aiden rolled across the ground, bodies tangled and the sound of her breath sharp with panic. Then they were both on their feet.
Red hazed his vision.
There was no thinking, only closing distance, which he did in two strides. He slammed into Aiden with bone-jarring force. Something burned hot and vicious across his stomach as Aiden twisted, a white fire slicing beneath the Kevlar vest.
Kayne grunted but didn’t slow. Pain registered as information, nothing more. He slammed Aiden down hard, driving him headfirst into the concrete. The impact echoed, sickening and final. Aiden went limp instantly.
Out or dead, he didn’t care which. Kayne barely spared him another glance.
“Chloe,” he said urgently. His hands were already on her face, shoulders, and arms, checking and cataloging injuries. “Look at me. You with me?”
“I-I think so,” she gasped. “He had a knife.”
Kayne exhaled, the breath shaky despite his control, relief crashing through him hard enough to make his vision swim. “I know,” he said, voice rough but steady. “You’re okay. You did so good. You’re safe now, cher. I got you—wait . . .” His hands stilled at something wet. “Are you bleeding?”
Then there was movement that was too fast. Too close.
Aiden surged back to life with a snarl, coming up off the floor and lunging straight for Chloe.
Kayne twisted, dragging Chloe behind him, but his body lagged a half-beat. Blood slicked warmly down his abdomen, his vision swimming at the edges.
A gunshot cracked through the room.
Aiden jerked violently, momentum cut short. He crumpled to the floor for the second and final time.
Anja stood in the doorway, weapon steady, face locked down. “He’s done,” she said.
Kayne nodded once. Then the world tilted hard.
He reached for Chloe, fingers clumsy now, pulling her against him because letting go wasn’t an option. Not ever. Her hands flew to his vest, slick with blood.
“Kayne,” she whispered, terror flooding her voice. “You’re bleeding. You’re bleeding a lot.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, the word distant, belonging to someone else. The room pulsed in and out of focus. “Just a scratch.”
Even as he said it, his legs disagreed.
It wasn’t a scratch. The warmth spreading beneath the vest told a different story, and suddenly gravity felt negotiable.
He tightened his hold on her, comforting himself with the sound of her breathing, the feeling of her alive in his arms.
“Stay with me,” Chloe begged.
Kayne tried to smile. “Not goin’ anywhere, cher,” he said softly, stubborn even now, as the edges of the world blurred and darkened. “Not without you.”