Knox:
She was standing outside the room like the end of a dream—one made of fire, vengeance, and a desperate kind of freedom that burned hotter than hell. Viv leaned against the motel doorframe with her jacket slipping off one shoulder, gun dangling from her fingers, and blood painted across her collarbone like a damn badge of honor.
Our eyes met.
Everything stopped.
The roar in my head. The pound of adrenaline. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
And in that heartbeat—just one—I knew.
We did it.
She was alive. We were alive. The plan worked. The cartel boys were dead, the money was ours, and for the first time in too damn long… we had a way out.
I crossed the lot in a blink and grabbed her, pulling her in like I’d never let her go again. Our mouths collided—desperate, reckles
