Chapter 4: Breaking point

I didn't sleep.

Cole was on the couch. Every few hours I heard him moving, checking windows, checking his phone. Around three in the morning, I gave up trying. I came out and found him sitting in the dark with his laptop open, files spread across the coffee table.

"Can't sleep?" he asked without looking up.

"No."

"Sit."

I sat on the other end of the couch. Close enough to feel the pull of him.

Cole turned the laptop toward me. Files on Senator Irwin's connections. The money trails. The people with everything to lose.

"How many people know your father's cooperating?" I asked.

"Maybe five."

"Then they'll kill him."

Cole looked at me. "Probably."

No comfort. Just truth. And in this moment, that was all we had.

"We could die here," I said. "Any night."

"I won't let that happen."

"You can't promise that."

"No. But I won't stop trying."

I moved closer. Just an inch.

"Then stop fighting this," I said. "Stop fighting me."

Cole turned to look at me. Even in the dark, I could see his eyes. Dark and conflicted and wanting something he thought he couldn't have.

"If I stop fighting, I stop being your bodyguard."

"That's not true. You can do both."

"No. I can't. Because if I touch you right now, I won't be able to stop."

"So we die safe but apart? That's not living, Cole. That's just dying slower."

He stood up. Walked to the window. Looked out at the dark woods.

"You don't know what you're asking for," he said.

"Yes, I do. I'm asking you to stop pretending you don't feel this."

Cole turned around. Even across the room, I could feel the fight happening inside him.

"This is insane," he said.

"I know."

"This is the worst possible idea."

"I know."

"If the senator finds out—"

"He won't. Not yet. Right now it's just us."

He walked back and stood over me. His hands clenched into fists.

"If we do this," he said, "there's no going back."

"Yeah. I understand."

He pulled me up and kissed me. Slow and deep and certain. His tongue against mine. His hands in my hair. When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard.

"Bedroom," he said.

We made it there in pieces. Half-clothed by the time we got through the door. His hands everywhere, like he was memorizing me. Like he thought this might be the only time.

"It won't be," I said against his mouth.

"Won't be what?"

"The only time. I'm not going anywhere."

Cole pulled back and looked at me. Like he was trying to believe it. Then he kissed me again.

We were tangled together when the first gunshot rang out.

Glass exploded. Cole's body covered mine instantly.

"Stay down!"

More shots. Windows shattering. Bullets hitting walls.

Cole grabbed his gun and pulled on his jeans. "Lock this door. Anyone comes through that isn't me, you run."

He kissed me. Fast and hard. Then he was gone.

I heard gunfire. Yelling. Something heavy hitting the floor. Then silence.

"Cole?" Nothing. "COLE!"

Footsteps. Heavy. Fast. Not Cole's rhythm. The door handle turned. I grabbed the lamp.

The door opened. A man stood there. Tall. Masked. Gun pointed at me.

"Where is he?" The voice was rough. "The bodyguard. Where did he go?"

My mind raced. Cole was somewhere in this house. Alive or dead, I didn't know.

"He ran when you started shooting."

The man laughed. "No he didn't. Men like that don't run."

He stepped into the room. I swung the lamp. He caught my wrist and twisted. Pain shot up my arm. The lamp clattered to the floor.

"Your father should've paid," he said. "Should've stayed out of things that didn't concern him."

"My father?"

"This isn't about you, kid. This is about keeping people in line."

He raised his gun. A shot rang out.

The man dropped. Blood blooming across his chest. Cole stood in the doorway. Gun raised. Face hard.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded but couldn't speak.

Cole checked the body, then grabbed my hand. "Get dressed. Now. We're leaving."

I pulled on clothes with shaking hands. Cole was already moving. Another body near the living room. He'd taken out at least two.

"How many?" I asked.

"Don't know. Could be more outside."

We ran to the SUV. Cole started the engine just as a bullet hit the windshield. Spider web cracks spread but it didn't shatter.

"Bulletproof glass," he said. "Hold on."

He floored it. We flew down the dirt road. More shots behind us but getting farther away. Cole drove like his life depended on it.

One hand on the wheel. One hand on his phone.

"Marcus. Safe house is compromised. We're mobile. I need a new location."

He hung up and looked at me. "You're bleeding."

I looked down. Blood on my arm where the man had twisted my wrist.

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing."

We drove in silence. My arm throbbing. My whole body shaking from shock.

Cole reached over and took my hand. Held it tight.

"Whatever this is," he said, keeping his eyes on the road, "we figure it out. Together."

I squeezed his hand back. But I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to get so much worse.