“You’re wrong, Gene. You’re so wrong.”

I could feel Cole’s anger then. He was furious. No, he was deadly.

There he was. There was the guy Carter had trained. And, just like that—just hearing that—I felt my mind coming back. There was still hope.

My pulse slowed, just a tiny bit.

There was still a chance to fight.

“If I kill her, Carter will be out for blood. He’ll have no one else to turn to except his family. That’s who we are. We’re his family, and he’ll come back to lead us. She was the only thing keeping him out anyway.”

He aimed the gun at my head. His arm was so steady.

“He’ll want to, Cole, because the Bartels took everything from him,” Gene continued. “You…” He stepped close and the end of the gun touched my head. “And his woman.”

Fight, Emma!

No, that wasn’t just the voice in my head. Now I was the one screaming out loud.

I launched myself off the chair. Gene hesitated for a second, stunned, and I flipped over the chair, slamming it against the side of his head. After that, it was chaos. Cole flung himself straight for the guards. They’d been running at us, but he slowed them down. Then he was on his feet and fighting all of them. He was landing blows, blocking theirs, kicking them.

Gun, gun. Get the gun, Emma.

Gene was winded, bent over. He almost fell to the ground, but caught himself. But I had stunned him, and the gun had fallen from his hand. That was enough. I saw it behind the desk. I started for it. I needed to grab it. My hand touched it, and then I was jerked backward.

“No,” I whimpered. I was so close. I almost had it.

Gene hauled me back and dragged me to my feet. He held me against his chest as he reached for the gun. I tried to kick it away, but his arm tightened over my windpipe. I gasped, feeling an explosion of pain in my chest. He picked up the gun and straightened back up. His arm loosened a bit, but I still gasped for breath. That pain wasn’t going away. It got worse. My vision blurred as I sagged in front of him.

His arm hoisted me back against him, holding me upright.

Smack!

The sound of a body hitting the wall drew my waning consciousness across the room. Two of the men were down, and Cole still traded blows with the others.

I felt the end of the gun press against my ear.

“I’ll shoot her,” Gene warned.

Those three words sent terror through me. They paralyzed Cole, too. He stopped fighting and lowered his arms. The guards didn’t waste any time. They grabbed him, and one slammed the back of his gun down on his head. Cole crumbled to the floor, unconscious.

It was just me now. I tried to gather some energy, but there was nothing. I could barely lift my head. Gene’s arm pressed against my throat. It was the only thing keeping me from the floor.

“Fuck,” he grunted against my ear. “I didn’t think this would be so damn hard.” He paused, held his breath.

It was coming. I had to fight.

I lifted my head and sank my teeth into his arm until I tasted blood. A surge of satisfaction flared through me, as he shoved me to the ground and howled in pain.

“Fuck! Fuck! You bitch!” He kicked me in the side and I doubled over, blinking back tears.

“Boss.” One of the guards stepped over. “We’ll do it.”

“Yeah?”

“Go get cleaned up. We’ll take the bodies to the car.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Gene sounded exhausted. “Thanks, Mitchell.”

I watched his feet move toward the door.

The guard standing over me lifted his gun and aimed. Another guard stood over Cole. He took aim, too. I couldn’t look. I couldn’t not look.

Then Gene opened the door—and froze. “Wha—”

Bang!

His body dropped to the floor to reveal Carter standing there, gun in hand.

I’d heard him coming.

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect, and when that traitor revealed himself, my gun was up. A look of shock and horror flashed over his face when he saw the 9mm in my hand. But it didn’t matter. He was dead the second he saw me.

I still stood over his body and fired two more times as Peter and Michael rushed around me. Gene’s men didn’t stand a chance. In seconds they were all dead, their blood mixing with my mentor’s.

“Carter!” Emma was up and running at me.

I caught her halfway and lifted her in the air. This was the fourth time I’d thought I’d lost her. I was chilled to the bone. This had come too close. He’d had time. He could’ve put a bullet in her head. A shudder wracked through me. Never. I was never letting her go again. Burying my head in the crook of her shoulder, I whispered, my lips pressed against her neck, “Marry me.”

She stiffened, then choked out a sob and whispered, “Yes.”

Thank god. We held each other even tighter after that.

“Carter.”

Michael waited beside us as Peter rushed from the room. I knew what Michael wanted, but I was still reluctant. Shit. How many times did I have to get her back, hold her, and then release her right away? But I nodded at him and let go of Emma.

“Carter?”

She looked terrified and fierce at the same time. I didn’t think I could love this woman any more than I already did, but I felt a whole new level deepening in me—a level I never knew was there.

Michael reached for her arm.

She frowned at him. “Carter?”

“You have to go with him,” I told her.