“Get down!”
Damien threw himself over Celeste just as the window shattered.
Glass flew everywhere. Gunshots filled the air.
They were in the safehouse on Porter avenue. The one no one speculated to realize about.
“How did he discover us?” Celeste shouted.
Damien grabbed her arm and pulled her at the back of the sofa. “Does not matter right now. We have to move!”
More bullets ripped through the wall. Pieces of wood and dust went flying. Celeste’s ears rang, her heart pounding so loud she ought to slightly assume.
She reached for her gun on the desk. Her arms shook, but she forced them to stay still. They’d been through awful things before, however this felt worse. This felt personal.
“The back door,” Damien yelled. He was already heading that way.
Celeste followed, keeping low. He
