The Substitute Bride

Outnumbered

Chloe’s blood ran cold. Four men climbed out of the first SUV. Four more from the second. Eight total. All suits, all muscle, all eyes locked on them like wolves on wounded deer. She did the only thing her body knew: hide. She ducked behind Blaze’s back, fisting his shirt like it was a shield. Her breath came fast, shallow. Eight against two. No, eight against one. She didn’t count. The men circled. Slow. Practiced. Cutting off every exit. “Long time no see, Blaze Reigns.” The voice was gravel and smoke. The man in front had a scar that split his face from left eye to mouth, twisting his lips into a permanent sneer. Leader. Obviously. “How long has it been?” Blaze said, easy as if they were at a bar. “Two days? You guys miss me that much? Chasing me halfway around the world, Scorpion?” Chloe’s nails dug into Blaze’s side. _Are you insane?_ She pinched him, hard, skin twisting under her fingers. _We’re outnumbered. Now is not the time for jokes._ Scorpion chuckled. The sound scraped. “We have orders, Blaze. Bring you in. You slipped us in London. But lady luck’s smiling today. We get you _and_ the pretty bonus.” His eyes slid to Chloe. They lingered. Hungry. “Unfortunately,” Blaze said, voice dropping a degree colder, “she’s not up for grabs.” Chloe pinched him again, sharper. _Don’t drag me into this._ Blaze didn’t flinch, but his jaw ticked. “Let the lady go. She’s got nothing to do with this. Take me. Not her.” Scorpion tilted his head. The scar pulled taut. “And how do I know she won’t run to the cops the second she’s free? You think I’m dumb, Blaze?” He laughed. It sounded like bones breaking. Blaze turned his head just enough for Chloe to hear him. No joke now. All steel. “When I count to five, you run. Get behind our car. Call the police. Hide. Got it?” Chloe nodded, throat too dry for words. Scorpion stepped forward. “Enough chat—” “One,” Blaze said. The world exploded. Blaze moved first. A fist to the closest man’s throat. A knee. An elbow. He was fast, trained, vicious. “Two.” Chloe bolted. She dove behind the hood of Daisy’s compact, heart slamming her ribs. Grunts. Thuds. The wet crack of bone. She covered her ears but it didn’t help. “Three.” Her hands shook. She fumbled her phone, dropped it, picked it up. _Get it together, Chloe. Now is not the time to fall apart._ Screen. Passcode. Wrong. _Dammit._ A shadow fell over her. She looked up. One of them. Huge. Half his ear missing. A metal pipe in his hand and a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. Chloe’s mouth went dry. Her legs gave out. She grabbed the car to stay upright, palms sweaty on hot metal. _Is this it? Rose, I’m sorry. I guess I’m joining you early._ She raised her hands. Slow. Shaking. “I’m not— I won’t—” Half-Ear yanked her up by the wrist and twisted her arm behind her back. Pain shot to her shoulder. Cold steel kissed her throat. “Look what I found, Blaze!” he called out, twisting his mouth into a sneer. Across the lot, Blaze had Scorpion on the ground, fist c****d back, Scorpion’s face a mess of blood. He froze and turned. His eyes landed on the knife at Chloe’s throat. His whole body went still. “Didn’t you play hide and seek as a kid?” he snapped at her, like this was her fault. “What?” Chloe choked, disbelief cutting through fear. “I did! I was champion in high school!” “Then how’d he catch you before I finished the others?” He hurled the pipe he’d taken. It cracked into another thug trying to stand. The man went down. “How is it _my_ fault?” she yelled back, knife biting her skin. “Maybe you should’ve hit him harder!” Half-Ear blinked. He looked between them, confused. _He_ had the hostage. They should be begging. Pleading. Not bickering like an old married couple. “Enough!” he roared. He pressed the blade in. A thin line of hot blood slid down Chloe’s neck. She whimpered, tears springing to her eyes. Blaze saw the blood. His face shut down. Blank. Deadly. He raised both hands, slow. Surrender. Half-Ear grinned, victorious. Then: _Woo-woo-woo._ Police sirens. Close. Getting closer. Half-Ear’s head snapped up. “Sh*t!” He shoved Chloe. Hard. She hit the pavement shoulder first. Her wrist twisted under her with a sick pop. Pain white-hot and blinding. She hissed, curling around her arm, butt and hip screaming from the impact. Tires screeched. Doors slammed. By the time Chloe lifted her head, the SUVs were peeling out, leaving rubber and dust. Blaze was at her side in two strides, dropping to his knees. “Hey. Hey, look at me. Where are you hurt?” Chloe cradled her wrist, tears streaming now. “My— my wrist. And my pride.” A patrol car rolled up, lights flashing, not because she called — her phone was still on the ground, call unsent. Just dumb luck. Or fate. Two officers jumped out, hands on holsters. “Everyone okay? We saw the vehicles fleeing—” “Later,” Blaze cut in. He didn’t look at them. His eyes were on the blood on Chloe’s neck, on the way she held her wrist. His jaw was iron. “She needs a hospital.” Chloe wanted to argue. Wanted to say she was fine. But the adrenaline was crashing. Her body shook. The knife had been _that_ close. Blaze stood and scooped her up like she weighed nothing, ignoring her gasp of pain. “I can walk,” she mumbled into his chest. “Humor me.” As he carried her to the car, his voice was low, only for her. “You bicker with a knife at your throat. You’re either the bravest i***t I’ve met, or the dumbest.” Chloe let her head rest against him, exhaustion winning. “Why not both?” Behind them, Scorpion’s blood was drying on the asphalt. This wasn’t over. And Liam didn’t even know yet.