Chapter 11: No Way Out

The gunshot echoed through the apartment, sharp and deafening.

Jason Cross stilled, his gun still raised.

Claire sucked in a breath, stepping back instinctively, eyes darting between me and the new arrival.

I turned toward the doorway, and my stomach dropped.

A man stood there, gun drawn, stance solid. His sharp gaze swept across the room, cataloguing everything—the bullet hole in the ceiling, the shattered furniture, Jason's poised stance, my bruises.

Not a bounty hunter.

Not Kane's men.

A cop.

Oh, shit.

For the first time since this started, Jason hesitated.

He hadn't planned for this.

Neither had I.

The detective's piercing eyes locked onto mine, a flicker of recognition flashing across his face. His fingers tightened on his gun, but his stance remained controlled.

Jason was assessing him, measuring his reaction time, his response, his level of threat.

This wasn't a man who panicked.

This was a man looking for an opening.

"Drop it," Reed ordered, voice steady.

Jason didn't. His grip on the gun remained firm, his weight perfectly balanced.

He wasn't retreating.

He was about to strike.

Then he moved.

Too fast.

Reed barely had time to react before Jason closed the gap. His free hand shot forward, grabbing the detective's wrist in a practiced motion. In a heartbeat, he twisted, forcing the gun downward.

The weapon wrenched from Reed's grip, clattering to the floor.

Jason drove his elbow into Reed's ribs.

Reed grunted, staggering backward.

The moment Jason pressed forward, knife flashing in his hand, I moved.

I should have run.

I should have grabbed Claire and gotten the hell out.

Instead, I threw myself into the fight.

Jason had Reed pinned, knee pressing into his back, blade poised for a clean strike.

I lunged.

Jason had been waiting for me.

The second I moved, he pivoted, his free arm snapping out.

His fist slammed into my face.

Stars burst behind my eyes. My head jerked to the side, but I forced myself to stay upright, momentum carrying me forward.

I reached for his wrist.

He caught mine first.

His grip was like iron.

Before I could counter, he yanked me forward and drove his knee into my stomach.

Pain ripped through me, air leaving my lungs in a choked gasp.

I stumbled, barely keeping my balance.

Jason didn't let go.

His hold tightened as he pivoted his stance—

And threw me straight into the wall.

The impact cracked through my spine, rattling my skull.

I slumped to the floor, breath coming in ragged gasps.

Jason loomed over me, gun raised, finger on the trigger.

This was it.

Then the window shattered.

A small drone hovered outside, blinking red.

Then—

BANG!

A flashbang grenade launched through the broken glass.

Jason reacted instantly, spinning away from the blast—

But it gave Reed enough time.

The detective lunged for his fallen gun, fingers wrapping around the grip.

He aimed—

And fired.

Jason twisted, the bullet barely grazing his arm.

Tactical footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Jason's comms crackled.

📡 Unknown Signal: "We have eyes on the target. Extraction required."

His jaw clenched.

This mission was compromised.

His gaze flicked to me, and for the briefest second, I saw something in his eyes.

Calculation.

Like he was memorizing my every movement.

"Next time," he muttered.

Then he threw down a smoke grenade—

And vanished.

Thick smoke filled the apartment, obscuring everything. My lungs burned as I coughed, trying to clear my vision.

Jason was gone.

But I didn't feel safe.

My body ached, but I was alive.

I turned to Reed.

His gun was still raised—but not aimed at Jason anymore.

It was aimed at me.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked.

I didn't answer.

Before I could even think of a lie, Claire grabbed my arm.

"We need to go. Now."

She was right.

I nodded.

We ran.

We didn't stop until we were miles away.

By the time we reached the far side of Brooklyn, Claire's safehouse—a dimly lit storage unit she used as a work studio—I could barely stand.

I collapsed onto an old couch, every muscle screaming in pain.

Claire was pacing, her hands on her hips, frustration radiating off her.

Reed leaned against the door, arms crossed, eyes locked onto me.

I exhaled, staring at the ceiling.

Then my phone buzzed.

📩 New Message – Unknown Number:

"You have no idea how much trouble you're in, do you?"

I frowned, sitting up.

Another message came through.

📩 New Message – Underground Bounty Board:

🔴 TARGET CONFIRMED: EVELYN REYES – $1,000,000 (ALIVE)

My blood turned to ice.

The bounty had doubled.

It wasn't just some anonymous hit anymore.

Now, every bounty hunter, mercenary, and underground operative in New York knew my name.

I wasn't just a target

I was the target.