Neil.

I froze as the chill steel of my gun remained heavy against the spy’s hot flesh. The bastard’s pulse thumped under my hand, and his breathing was ragged.

Bryce had his own gun pointed at Marcus’s temple across from me, his chest heaving as visible sweat and blood slid from the side of his face. His men were surprised—some of them bleeding—all of them holding their guns and looking desperate. Mine stood just behind my back, silent and steady, but always ready to strike when I ...