Page 138 of Manic

Then I swayed and blinked, nausea curling low when they re-entered the building. I fixed my attention on the two unfamiliar bodies being tossed amongst the others and taking our place.

A woman. A man. Dark and bleached hair.

Body doubles.

My panic resumed.

“What are you doing?” I rasped, the same time Axell said, “The Irish are on their way.”

The Irish?

“Do it.” Axell faced Manic and braced himself.

Manic lifted his gun, level with his eyes, and shot him in the shoulder. Axell gritted his teeth, and I screamed, a hand flying to my mouth. What the fuck was happening? A whirl of movement, and Manic punched Axell in the nose, sending blood gushing down his face.

“Three minutes. Go,” Axell said, turning to spit on the ground. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

Manic spun toward me, gripping my hand so fiercely, my bones ached. But even as he yanked and pulled, I couldn’t move. Realizing this, he gripped my face, forcing my gaze on him.

“Sutton, baby, we have to go,” he breathed. “We have three minutes before the Irish arrive, and if we don’t leave now, we’re both dead.”

“I—” I sobbed and pounded my fists against his chest. “Why would I go anywhere with you?”

“Because you hate me,” he said lightly. Then his brows creased, and he whispered, “Because I made you a promise, and I’m keeping it. I will always keep my promises to you.”

“You made me think I was going to the Russians.”

“I had to.”

“I almost killed you,” I blubbered.

He gripped my face tighter. “I know. But Dmitri had to believe you were scared, or this would have never worked. You did so good, but we have to go so Axell can blow this place up.”

“What—”

“Two minutes,” Axell called.

Manic didn’t wait for my reply and instead, took our phones and tossed them to Axell before lifting me off my feet. My world tilted, and a shocked breath whooshed out of me as I was thrown over his shoulder. I lifted my head the moment Axell took out our microchips and stomped on both of our phones.

“Let me down,” I hissed, beating against his back.

Manic ignored me.

I couldn’t see where we were going, but we exited a different door and into the frigid air. It was damp, the ground hard as he rushed us away from the building. It wasn’t long by the time I was set down in front of an unfamiliar car. It was silver and clearly used, a few patches of flaked paint marking its surface. My legs wobbled.

Manic secured me inside, hurriedly getting in the driver's seat and tearing down the gravel road within seconds.

I glanced in the backseat, which held two separate duffel bags. If I were to guess, they were filled with new things, considering my bag had been left behind in his Mercedes.

A resounding boom split the air, a cloud of smoke and fire billowing in the blackened sky—right where the warehouse was. I gasped as the interior of the car lit up with an orange glow. Axell. Where was he? Was he safe?

“Where are we going?” I asked, my voice thin.

“Anywhere. Do you want to go with me?”

Was he giving me the option? My hands began to shake, the rush of adrenaline fading into absolute disbelief. Manic and Axell had blown up the warehouse. Manic and Axell had killed those Russians. And from what I witnessed, they also managed to find two body doubles who, at first glance, could be easily mistaken for both of us.

“Say something, Sutton. Do you want to go with me or not? Because I have a few million put aside for you and me.”