My scream echoes around the room as James falls back, hitting his head on the corner of a table. A red stain forms on his chest, and I see the blood on the back of his head. I’m calling his name, but there’s no movement. He’s completely still as a large pool of blood forms around him.

I get off the ground, running to his side, but the cop shoves me back to the ground with the gun trained on my head. “Please,” I beg as I start crawling toward James. “Just let me check on him.”

“He’s dying, you stupid bitch.”

Sobs wrack through me as I crawl. My body’s tense; anticipating a bullet, I wrap one arm around my stomach, protecting my baby in any way that I can. I use my one arm to get to James. The barrel of the gun and the cop’s eyes follow me across the floor.

He laughs when I reach James and try to stop his bleeding. My hands cover the gaping holes in his chest, but the blood’s spilling through my fingers, soaking my hands and legs. I take my hands away from his body, tearing half of my shirt and wrapping it around his head wound.

“He’s going to die,” the cop laughs. “Just let it happen. You won’t be far behind.”

“Shut up,” I yell at him, turning to face him. He’s staring at me with a sinister smile and evil eyes. Men like him give honorable police officers a bad name. “Serve and protect, my ass.”

“You don’t know shit about me.”

Anger rises in me, and I’m unable to hold my tongue. “I know you’re a dirty cop, it’s all I need to know.”

My heart stops when I hear Roman yell my name. I scream for him to stop, but it’s too late—the cop fires a shot in the direction of the door. I duck when another is fired, screaming Roman’s name and covering James’ huge body with my small frame.

“Harper,” Roman says, so much shock and terror in that one word.

“Where is he?” I ask, looking around for the cop.

“Subdued,” Roman says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I need three ambulances. Gunshot wounds.” Roman hangs up after rattling off the address, dropping to my side and covering my hands on James’ body with his own.

“James saved me,” I sob. “Daniel was going to kill me, I think.”

“Daniel?” Roman asks, confused. I look toward the lump on the floor. He’s still unconscious.

“Daniel, your friend from years ago?”

“Yes,” I say quietly, staring over at his body before looking at Roman.

“That’s Dawson. He’s my rat. Fuck. He’s been working with me for five years. He shot Kiernan and killed Caleb. Thank god James got here in time.”

Roman covers me with his body when another shot rings out behind us. My face is pressed into James’ bloody chest, and Roman is covering every inch of my body.

“Do not hurt the girl. He never fucking listens.” Rafael says. I can’t see him, and Roman hasn’t moved off of me.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Roman growls.

“I shot Daniel because he was going to hurt our Harper.” Rafael’s accented voice is mocking, even in this moment with three bodies lying on the floor. Disgust overwhelms me that I ever found him even the slightest bit attractive.

“My Harper,” Roman growls.

“Brothers share, Roman,” Rafael chuckles.

“Fuck you,” Roman seethes.

“Put your gun down,” Rafael growls. “Get off Harper, she can barely breathe.”

Roman lifts off me slightly but keeps himself in front of me. I raise my head to see Rafael. The smell of James’ blood covering my face is paralyzing my senses. There’s too much blood on the ground. No, no. Please, he has to be okay.

Roman stands face to face with Rafael. It strikes me, just as it did the first time, how eerily similar they are. Even with the similarities, I never would have guessed they are brothers. Rafael stares at Roman, tucking his gun into his pants, waiting for Roman to do the same. He doesn’t. Rafael’s eyes flick to me.

“Don’t you fucking look at her,” Roman growls.