“Mills is with me,” Kyson adds in.
Code: Marty and Blue are still out there.
“Stand down.” I don’t look at Bishop because that may read too confident. “I don’t want anyone hurt.”
“How loud?”
Code: Can he hear me?
“Not much,” I reply.
“Kids are safe,” Kyson proceeds to tell me. “I got my gear. Buy me ten minutes, Ems.”
“Okay.”
“Get off the phone now, sweetheart,” Alexander commands, holding out his hand to take it. I hesitate because it’s a lifeline, but I hang up and give it over.
My kids are safe.
I don’t know where they are, but if Kyson says they are, he won’t bullshit me. And as much as Alexander believes I underestimated him, he again did the same to me.
Kyson was a sniper in the military.
His men will be dead in minutes.
“Now—“ Alexander pockets my phone. “—we were talking about killing the man behind me.
I don’t get to respond because a shot rings out, and I jolt back against the door. My ears buzz from the close range, but Alexander is still standing in front of me.
Bishop, however, isn’t.
I round my ex’s body on instinct, but Alexander grips my bicep and shoves me backward, the cold metal of his weapon pressed underneath my chin. My fingers are already formed together to swing on him, but the second shot pierces through my next move, and my heart stops.
I hear Bishop’s growl.
I see two other bodies that aren’t mine come in from my bedroom, and Bishop hurled up from the floor.
From experience, I know not to show any emotion when your teammate is captured or used as leverage. It’s a weakness. However, Bishop may have been shot twice and I don’t know where.
I’m not sure where the fuck Marty and Blue are, but they need to wrap this shit up and get in here.
“Now that that’s taken care of.” Alexander's concentration falls to my lips and remains there. “We can talk about visitation with the kids.”
My eyes form into slits. “No.”
His body blocks my view of Bishop, and I begin to grow overly anxious, almost about to call his bluff if he’s going to pull the trigger on me.
I can’t leave the kids behind.
And as if my luck has changed, Alexander stupidly hands off his gun to one of his men. An older man in his mid-fifties, maybe, but he looks like this isn’t his first go-around. No, unlike the suits I’ve seen following Alexander like at the coffee shop, he’s in black jeans and tee. He appears like someone who was hired for something shady and illegal.
And without needing any more guidance, he pivots back to the middle of the room.
“You and I have a lot of shit to talk about.” I steer my focus to my ex when, out of the corner of my eye, the second man in the room throws a fist at Bishop’s face as he tries to stand, but he’s knocked back down.
That’s when I rush the asshole.
Shoving Alexander aside, my body slams into Bishops’ attacker seconds later, tipping him off balance for a moment before he pushes me backward.
He tries to swing on me next, but I duck and return a hit to his ribs. Bishop is almost to his feet when the man behind him grips the collar of Bishop’s shirt; however, my man is already ready.
His elbow thrusts back, catching his opponent in the face. The younger guy wastes no time and backhands me. I see stars, but I know where he is, giving me an opportunity to kick him in the shin.
The moment I make contact, I’m hurled back by my hair as the man who just bitched-slapped me goes to help his buddy take on Bishop. But when both can’t get a handle on him, they both whip out their guns and point them.
“See, Emmy,” Alexander whispers in my ear with a sneer. “You caused a whole lot of trouble.”
I quickly examine Bishop, who’s heavily panting and boring a heated and dangerous glare at the man behind me. I don’t see any blood, which frightens me.
The bullets didn’t go through, so they're in his back somewhere.
“Just let him go,” I quip. “You’ve made yourself clear. I’m the one you want.”
“And you’ve already made it quite clear that you’re upset with me,” my ex says. “What’s to add one more thing to the list of reasons why you hate me than to take out the guy who seems to have your heart.”
A mirthless chuckle escapes my lips. “Heart? After what you both did to me? You both can go fuck yourselves.”
“I don’t buy it.” Alexander’s grip on my hip tightens. “You’re lying.”
“About what?”
He whirls me and clamps his palm around my face, squeezing into my cheeks with his fingertips. “He stayed here last night.”
“Because he wouldn’t leave.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you’re not fucking him?” He said it so harshly that he rattled my skull with his grip.
“Ding, ding, ding. You win.” I clutch his hand with mine and squeeze back, digging my nails into his flesh. “Did your so-called therapist say it was okay to stalk your ex who you tried to kill? Oh, shit, wait that’s if you’re seeing one.”
“I am.”
I snort. “And here we are. Must not be working.”
“Don’t act so moral, Emmy Lou. It doesn’t fit you. You worked for the President of the United States. I’m sure you’ve dealt in your own shade of shady.”
“And I’m sure you have as well. I mean…did you call someone to come dig a hole for me after you left me to bleed to death?”
Alexander frowns at me as if I just told him something that wasn’t true. That I have the absolute audacity to talk about it. “Are you ever gonna try to get past this, or am I beating a dead bush at this point?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“What you’re doing here tonight.”
“You want me to spare this asshole?” I keep my lips closed. “No?”
“I want a man that knows right
