Page 116 of Hide Little Traitor

Because that’s what always happens in my life. The universe gives me a glimpse at what I could have, at what happiness could look like, and then it pulls the rug out from under me like some kind of cosmic joke.

Shouts from outside mix with the gunshots from the room next door, and my senses are overwhelmed, my entire body locked up with terror.

What are the chances we all make it out of here alive?

I heard what Corbin said. I heard him tell Ryker that we’re surrounded and that there’s no way out. I was listening as he told him that backup is twenty minutes away at best.

How is it possible that I finally had everything I’ve ever wanted, only for it to be torn from me hours later?

A soft sob breaks from my chest. I should be stronger than this, I’ve survived worse. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve been here before.

I’ve watched the people I love most in the world be slaughtered, and now I’m afraid history is repeating itself.

Ryker turns me around in his arms, his fingers capturing my chin as he tilts my face up to look into his golden eyes. “We are not dying here, Siren. None of us. You hear me?”

I nod even though he can’t promise me that. He can’t promise that we’re all getting out of here when there’s been a continuous stream of gunshots and eventually we’re going to run out of ammunition.

There was only one bag of weapons among the rest of our stuff, and it won’t be long before we run through the bullets, leaving us defenseless.

He thrusts a gun into my hand, and it almost falls through my trembling fingers. “You know how to use this?”

I swallow. “I’ve been shooting most of my life.”

“Good. Anyone that’s not one of us comes near you, point and shoot.”

“What about the guys that work for King?”

He smirks. “They could use a few days off to recover from a gunshot wound.”

I open my mouth to respond, but he’s gone, moving closer to the window.

Ducking behind the bed, I force air into my lungs, force myself to breathe through the never-ending panic that rages through my chest.

A figure appears in the doorway, and I lock eyes with Damon, his usually emotionless face showing something I can’t ever remember seeing before.

Fear.

“You okay, Duchess?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, holding the gun against my chest.

A bullet shatters the window, tearing a startled yelp from my throat. I may have spent the last decade living with a Mafia family, but I was sheltered during that time, and since leaving, I’ve found myself in the middle of two gunfights and being kidnapped several times.

I think I’d like to go back to my sheltered life now.

“Come on, Duchess. We’re getting you out of here.”

“No. I’m not leaving them!”

A deep rumble fills the space between us. “Chloe, they cannot focus while you’re in danger. The only way we’re all getting out of here without body bags is if you’re safe away from here.”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek as I mull over the options. Or lack thereof.

My being here is a distraction, and one that could cost the men I love their lives, but leaving them feels wrong. Like I’m abandoning them in their time of need when I’m perfectly capable to helping.

“Duchess,” he growls. “If you don’t get your pretty ass up, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and drag you out of here.”

Eyes widening, I’m tempted to challenge him on it but decide that it’s probably not the time to be a brat to any of them, especially the one that’s spent years hating me and would care the least if I died.