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He sat back on his heels as the walls started to crumple around him, stared at the man who would no doubt rather be dead than paralyzed. His entire business was ruined, an empire brought to its knees by careful, vicious planning.

S8 had made a name for itself over the past months by taking down everything Drew Landon had worked so hard to build, and all because he couldn’t extricate himself from his family.

Leaving him here might be the kindest thing Gunner could do for him.

“Gunner, we have to go. Now.” Avery touched his shoulder. “Do you want to take him with us?”

So much fucking understanding in her voice. He stood, took her hands. “I love you, Avery. Have from the first second I saw you.”

“I love you too, Gunner. Always will,” she murmured, and they stared at each other, even as the walls began to crack around them.

“We’ll leave him. He always said he wanted to be buried here. Should get his wish. And we leave him behind. We start new.”

When he looked back at Landon again, the man had passed. Gunner didn’t know how he knew, but he just did. And the cycle was broken, just like that.

Chapter Thirty-two

Jem made it out of the building with Drea, Dare and Key just in time to watch the tower where Drea had been for the last day and a half crumple. He glanced behind him and kept running until they were at a safer distance, knowing that Dare and Key had broken off to run back toward the collapsing mansion.

“Drea, honey.” He put her on the ground, brushed the hair from her face. She was pale. Barely breathing. In shock for sure. He’d suspected as much in the tower, but didn’t want to risk breaking her out of it and having her possibly panic and flail and set the bombs off.

But now . . . “Come on, you’re okay. You made it. So fucking brave.”

He rubbed her arms, her face, rough touches meant to bring her back, but she sat like a stone. He took off his jacket that had all the ammo and weaponry in it, wrapped it around her, but she still shivered, even under the warm sun. Not a good sign.

He looked back and saw no one coming toward them. Grace was texting him, asking for an update.

He had nothing to tell her. Dare must’ve texted her as they’d gotten free from the building so she wouldn’t worry. At least not any more than what they’d already put her through.

All he could do was hold Drea, tell her it was okay, over and over, and pray he was right. And finally—fucking finally—the rest of his team appeared. They were running from the building that was leaving a thick cloud of dust in its wake and Jem picked Drea up and began to run toward where they’d left the boat.

“He wired the ground!” Key was yelling as they all ran, got into the water as Gunner dragged the boat. They were floating maybe ten feet from shore as they watched the grass they’d just run on go up in flames.

“Jem, lay her down—raise her feet above her heart,” Gunner was saying. Jem grabbed some of the cushions from the seats, threw them on the floor as he lowered her. Avery came over and held up Drea’s legs, as Gunner instructed.

“Check her, Gun—make sure,” he said as Avery held on to him. “Did you get them?”

“They’re both dead,” she confirmed. “Drew wasn’t in on it.”

“Still deserved what he got,” Jem said, and Gunner nodded. “You’re free, Gun. Finally free.”

Gunner put a hand on Drea’s forehead. “At what cost?”

“She’ll be okay. She has to be,” Jem said fiercely, because he couldn’t believe anything else. And when they pulled up to the boat, Grace was waiting for them.

“Coast Guard’s been called. We’re going to have to get ahead of them,” she said.

“I’ll do it,” Key said, and Dare followed him. The boat started moving as soon as Jem boarded, as he was the last one on. Gunner already had taken Drea downstairs, and he joined them and Avery and Grace as Gunner ran IVs and tried to get her stabilized.

“She’s been in shock for a while . . . maybe since he wired her,” Gunner said.

“It’s a wait-and-see, Jem. There’s nothing more a hospital could really do for her, but we can get her to one. I’ll flag down the Coast Guard,” Gunner said.

“And get caught?”

“I don’t care,” Gunner said.

“Gunner, there were safety measures Landon put in place if he died. Pictures of you, proof of your jobs were going to be sent to the CIA,” Jem reminded him.

“We don’t know if that’s true,” Gunner said. “And even if it is, I’ve disappeared before.”

Avery nodded her approval, even as she held on to Drea’s hand, brushed her hand over the doctor’s forehead, her lips moving in a silent prayer.

“It’s a waiting game, Gun. You and I both know that. The hospital won’t do anything more than you can. But thank you,” Jem told him. They all knew he was right.

Her heart rate was still tachy. Her eyes were unblinking. She wasn’t in pain.

“Shock’s the body’s way of protecting itself—the mind shuts down when it knows you can’t handle it. This saved her, Jem,” Gunner told him. “She’s going to come out of it.”

But no one could know that for sure.

* * *

Avery found Gunner on the deck, facing the bow. The boat cut through the water at a fast speed, Key behind the wheel and Dare directing him in the dark that had descended.

They’d made the decision to stay on the water close to shore; that way they could get Drea to a hospital if things worsened.

They hadn’t. But they hadn’t improved either.

Jem wouldn’t leave her side. Insisted Avery go check on Gunner.

Grace grabbed her on the way up, handed her some sandwiches to bring to Gunner and then went to bring some down to Jem.

“She’s got to be okay, Grace,” Avery said.

“I know. God, this is so unfair.” Grace looked angry. In the time Avery had known her, she hadn’t really seen that emotion come through. But Avery agreed with the sentiment one hundred percent. “I still want to do Section 8. Just know that—now more than ever.”

“Me too.” She smiled for a second as she thought about Adele. “Adele would’ve been proud of us, I think.”

“I know she is proud of us. She’s like our fairy godmother, except she’d kill me for calling her that. Probably literally.” Grace gave her a quick hug. “Go to Gunner. Feed him.”

Avery did as she was told, looked forward to some quiet time with him, even if it would only be for a few minutes. “Hey, Grace made some food.”

“Thanks, chère.” He took one of the sandwiches, ate it quickly, then devoured another one. She nibbled on one too as she stared up at the stars.

When he’d finished the sandwiches, he drank down the soda too, and then she put all of that aside. She ran her hands over his shoulders, massaged them for a few minutes. He dropped his head forward and she heard the groan of appreciation.

“If you sit, I can do a better job, Tall Boy,” she told him.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Tall Boy?”

“It’s a nickname I’m trying out. I could call you G if you like that better.”

“Don’t you dare,” he warned, and then he sat on one of the deck chairs and leaned forward, forearms on his thighs. She moved behind him again and proceeded to work the kinks out of his shoulders and neck, kneading and caressing until his body was relaxed. As relaxed as it could be under the circumstances.

It had been forty-eight hours with no changes in Drea’s situation. Forty-eight hours on the boat, with one stop to refuel. From Drea’s side, Jem had been monitoring the situation, checking for blowback on S8 and Gunner especially. So far, it was all quiet. But that didn’t help them in their decision-making process.