Page 54 of Hide Little Traitor

He scoffs. “I forgot you could be funny when you’re not being annoying as fuck.”

“Will you two stop bickering for five seconds?” Ronan growls.

“She started it.”

“Are you five?” I shove against his back to look up at Ronan walking up the stairs backward, his gun trained on the front door.

“Which way to your room, Duchess?”

“To the left,” I huff.

As badly as I want to fight him, I’d rather not die today, and the sooner I’m safe, the easier it will be for Ryker and Kingston to neutralize the threat without being worried about me.

I may be pissed at one of them, but I’m well aware of how much he cares for me.

Ronan continues walking backward as Damon takes measured steps down the hallway, and when we reach the room I woke up in, I let him know.

He finally puts me on my feet, but none of us move.

“I don’t know where the panic room is,” I admit. “King didn’t even tell me there was one in here.”

“Fantastic,” Damon drawls sarcastically.

Ronan shoves the gun at Damon and moves to the closet, his eyes darting around at the rows of designer clothing.

He shakes himself off and starts pushing things down the railing, searching for the entrance to the panic room.

I’m frozen, torn between doing as I’m told and wanting to be helpful. It’s been so long since I’ve held a gun, only going to the shooting range with John and Camilla a few times over the years, but I’m sure it’s like riding a bike, especially when our lives are at risk.

Damon steps toward the open door and slowly peers out into the hallway before cursing.

“We have company,” he calls out to Ronan.

Fresh panic crashes over me as I remember how many times the three of us watched horror movies as kids, laughing at the stupidity of those who were running up the stairs and trapping themselves.

Isn’t that what we’ve done?

Turned ourselves into sitting ducks?

A series of gunshots sound from downstairs, and I rush to the window.

Blood seeps into the grass beside one of the wedding organizers, and guilt slides into my chest beside the panic.

If it weren’t for Kingston’s need to have me agree to marry him, they wouldn’t have been here today. If I’d just signed the marriage certificate, she would be alive right now.

A few yards away there’s someone else motionless on the lawn, but there’s no blood, giving me hope that they’re alive.

“Get away from the window,” Damon snaps.

“Whoever was out there is in the house,” I tell him, ignoring his snarky tone.

I’m starting to wonder if he knows how to not be an asshole.

“Get in the closet with Ronan,” he orders.

“I’m not leaving you out here to die,” I argue.

He throws me a smug smirk over his shoulder. “Would you be sad if I died, Duchess?”