Chapter 11: Blake's Desperation

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Blake's heart raced as he scanned the darkened warehouse, his eyes locking onto Lexi's battered form. The sight of her bruised and bloodied face ignited a rage within him that he had never felt before. His deep feelings for her, long hidden beneath layers of professionalism and caution, surged to the surface.

"Let her go," Blake demanded, his voice cold and deadly.

The men laughed, their confidence clear. "You must be the hero," the leader sneered. "You're too late. She's as good as dead."

Blake didn't respond. Instead, he moved with a speed and precision that caught them off guard. His training and desperation fueled his actions, each movement calculated to disable and disarm. The first man fell with a well-placed punch to the throat, his weapon clattering to the ground.

The others reacted, opening fire, but Blake was already in motion. He ducked behind a crate, returning fire with deadly accuracy. One by one, the men fell, their overconfidence their downfall. Blake's mind was focused solely on Lexi, each shot fired with her safety in mind.

Finally, the leader stood alone, his face twisted with fear and rage. "You'll never get out of here alive," he spat, pulling a knife and lunging at Blake.

Blake sidestepped the attack, grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it until the knife fell from his grasp. With a final, powerful blow, Blake knocked him out cold. The warehouse fell silent, the only sound the ragged breathing of Blake and Lexi.

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