BOUND TO HIM (Book II: Captured series)

31. Logan

The hallway is a choke point and right now, it’s our deathtrap.

I keep Elle pressed against the wall with my left hand while I raise my sidearm with the right. Three bodies down already, but their backup is fast. The radio chatter in their earpieces tells me they’re calling for reinforcements.

“Elon—status!” I growl into my comm.

“Two down outside. Working my way around the west side. Thirty seconds.” His breathing is heavy, clipped. The tone tells me he’s moving and killing in the same breath.

Victor’s voice follows, tense but controlled. “The main dock is still hot. If you move now, you’ll run straight into another patrol.”

“We’re moving now,” I snapped. “She won’t last thirty seconds.”

Elle’s head rests against the wall, eyes half-shut. Her breaths are shallow, lips pale. I press my hand to the back of her neck. She's warm, too warm for my liking.

“Hey.” I tilt her chin up again. “Stay with me. Just a little longer.”

Her eyes flutter open, and for the first time I see a flicker of fear in them. Not for herself but for me. “Logan… please…”

I don’t let her finish. “Not happening.” I know exactly what she's going to tell me but I might as well as Elon to leave us behind before that.

Boots pound against concrete, getting closer by the second. I pivot, fire three shots in quick succession. Two men drop, the third ducks behind a metal support beam.

“Elon, now!” I bark.

The outside air explodes in automatic fire. Muffled shouts, the crack of glass, the deep metallic thud of bodies hitting the ground.

That’s our opening.

I hook an arm under Elle’s knees and the other around her back, lifting her like she weighs nothing. She doesn’t protest, just curls against my chest, her fingers weakly fisting the fabric of my shirt.

Moving fast, I clear the hallway, boots splashing through a shallow trail of water from some busted pipe. The metallic tang of blood mixes with the damp, and the cold in the air feels sharper with every breath.

Two more guards block the next corner, one raises his rifle, the other goes for his radio. I don’t slow down.

One shot to the chest. One to the head. Both crumple before their rifles hit the ground.

Victor’s voice cuts through the static in my ear. “The dock is clear. Go right, then straight.”

I take the turn, shifting Elle’s weight as I sprint. She murmurs something against my chest — I can’t make out the words, but I know the tone. She’s trying to apologize.

“Don’t,” I mutter. “You made it this far. That’s all that matters.”

We burst into the dockyard. Elon’s crouched behind a shipping crate, rifle still smoking. His eyes snap to Elle — the tight, controlled rage there tells me he sees exactly what they’ve done to her. Then he looks over at me.

“You’re bleeding again,” he says.

“Later.”

We needed to move, get away from here. Elon covers the rear, I keep my eyes forward. Every shadow feels like a threat, every creak in the steel overhead like another enemy closing in.

By the time we reach the far gate, Elle’s breathing has gone ragged. I set her down just long enough to get the gate open, then scoop her back up.