Chapter 19

NINETEEN

The energy in the room had changed. Istomin and Yixing were panicked, and Radovic was beginning to pace.

And that was never good.

Panic and agitation led to mistakes, rash decisions, and plans being abandoned and changed.

It led to hostages being killed.

Asher knew that.

So did Yunho. Though he wasn't acting like it.

He'd come to a little while ago, moaning with pain, incoherent almost. Until he seemed to remember where he was.

He spared a glance to Asher. "My darling," he murmured. "It'll be okay. No matter what happens, it'll be okay."

"No one gave you permission to speak," Radovic screamed, stopping mid-pace to stalk over to them. His eyes were wild as he took out his knife and held it to Yunho's cheek. "I should give you a matching scar on the other cheek."

He pressed the knife tip into Yunho's cheek as a distant sound rumbled overhead. Like feet running above them. Like tankers and truck engines. And yelling.

Istomin cocked his head, then he barked an order for his men to go up and see what it was. "Now, now, now!"

Men ran up the stairs and Yunho laughed, blood drooling from his mouth. His face a swollen mess. Asher wondered briefly if he'd lost his mind.

"You stupid fuck, you said we were the bait," Yunho said with a laugh. He looked up at Istomin smiling, panting. A string of blood dropped down from his chin. "We were never the bait. You are."

Then voices shouted, machine guns fired, and a body fell down the stairs with a thud. One of Istomin's men, now staring upward, his chest a gruesome jigsaw puzzle.

And the unmistakable sound of a Hellcat helicopter.

Then a swarm of men in black combat gear came down the stairs, fluid and smooth. The room erupted into chaos. Shots fired, yelling, so much yelling.

But then as if all fell silent and in slow motion, Asher saw Harry.

He came down the stairs like a bull. Like a madman, until he saw Asher, and he stopped.

He was alive. His face beaten, swollen, he was covered in blood. But he was alive. Asher could have cried.

Harry let out a sigh and began to run toward him, just as a wall of black blocked his view.

Radovic had gripped Asher's hair, his knife coming for his throat, his face deranged with rage. Asher tried to pull away, holding his breath as the knife met his neck.

But then he was gone, hoisted up in front of Asher. Harry held Radovic by his throat in one hand, gripping Radovic's hand holding the knife with his other. He forced the blade upward into Radovic's belly and jammed it up and up, bones crunching.

His face was one of shock, his mouth open, eyes wide. Blood streaming from his front, gushing to the floor.

Harry was quickly surrounded by the men in black combat telling him to stand down, but he didn't seem to notice them. He still held Radovic's throat and he snarled at him. "Look at Asher," Harry seethed. "His face will be the last thing you see."

Harry shoved Radovic in front of Asher, then Harry squeezed his hand around Radovic's throat. And squeezed.

His fingertips dug in, skin piercing, bones crushing, and Harry pulverised his windpipe. Radovic gurgled and gasped, blood gushing.

So much blood . . .

"Jesus fucking Christ, Harrigan," one of the men said.

Harry dropped Radovic, discarding him like garbage, his hands then went to Asher.

Soft, cradling, gentle.

"Asher, baby," he whispered. "My god. I'm here. I gotchu."

Asher sagged with relief and exhaustion. He could have cried, but then Harry was yelling. "Get the cuffs off him. Both of them. Now."

A moment later, Asher's hands were freed, his tired and sore arms hurt. Everything hurt.

But then Harry scooped him up, his embrace impossibly tight, as if he thought Asher might disappear. Asher sagged in his hold, unable to stop his tears, and he sobbed with relief and gratitude.

Nothing else mattered, except that Harry was alive. He was here, and Asher would never let him go again. He clung to him, and Harry picked him up and carried him toward the stairs.

Like no one was barking orders, like no bad guys were on their knees with guns pointed at their heads, like no one else existed. Like he needed to take Asher away from this terrible ordeal.

They reached the top, met by more combat men who lowered their guns when they saw who it was. It was bright daylight, the air fresh. Tears streamed down Asher's face. "Harry, I love you. I love you."

Harry stopped and smiled at him, still holding him tight.

Then Harry collapsed to the ground.