were half-closed, and he leaned his head against the wall as if he couldn’t hold it up by himself.
He was also, Paisley noticed, sitting right beneath the screen she was hiding behind. Her worry eased a little at the thought that his position had to be deliberate. He might not be anywhere near as badly hurt as he looked.
The last man in the room was the only one who was unarmed. He was a big guy in a suit, with fleshy features and an aura of scumbag. Paisley recognized him from the info Eli and Jackson had given her: Victor Reed, the CEO of SmartDefense. Her lips writhed back in a soundless snarl.
Claw his eyeballs out! Paisley’s cat howled.
She forced herself to hold back and think like a human. Reed wasn’t the important one. The guards were, with their guns. She wasn’t sure how much Jackson could do; he was injured, and he wasn’t a fighter like Eli. But if she could distract the guards for even a few seconds, she bet Eli could take them all out.
Unfortunately, none of the guards were within leaping distance. The person Paisley was closest to was Jackson, but though his guards had pistols aimed at him, they were standing across the room. She gave an inner growl of frustration.
Eli’s blue gaze scanned the room, avoiding Paisley’s vent, then settled on Jackson. She hoped Eli had guessed that she was there.
“Who else knows about your little mission?” Reed demanded.
Eli hesitated, biting his lower lip and looking nervous and uncertain. Since Paisley had seen that Eli stayed calm even when he thought he was dying, that gave her confidence. He was plotting something.
“No one,” Eli said at last. “No one knows. Just Jack— uh— Brandon and me.”
Reed rolled his eyes. “We know who your friend is. Once we figured out that you were the SEAL who complained about the armor, we looked up your associates. He’s Jackson Ford, the inventor. Who else knows?”
“No one!” Jackson put in. His voice was slurred and weak, just like Eli’s had been when he’d been poisoned. It was so similar, in fact, that it had to be an imitation. Paisley’s confidence rose again.
“We didn’t tell—” Jackson broke off with a grunt of pain. He clutched at his side.
“Did they kick you in the ribs?” Eli asked. He bit his lip again, looking worried.
“Yeah,” Jackson mumbled.
Eli turned to Reed. He sounded increasingly desperate as he spoke. “Jackson needs medical attention. I think he has broken ribs. He might be bleeding internally. Look, let’s forget about this whole thing. You took away our proof. There’s nothing we can do to stop the contract now. Let me take him to the hospital, and none of— neither of us— will ever say anything. I already lost Ryan— I can’t lose Jackson too!”
Reed’s lips curled in an unpleasant smile. “ None of you will ever say anything? I think you’re still holding out on me. If you don’t want to lose Jackson too —” Reed mockingly imitated Eli’s tones. “—then you won’t keep lying.”
Reed snapped his fingers at the four armed guards, gesturing to them to move closer to Jackson. They stepped toward him but, to Paisley’s frustration, halted outside of her jumping range.
“Who else knows?” Reed demanded.
“No one!” Eli’s voice cracked. “Come on, don’t do this. He’s injured already— one more blow could kill him!”
“What happens to him is completely up to you.” Reed flicked his fingers at the guards.
They stepped forward again, coming closer and closer, until they stood over Jackson. The guards lowered their guns, getting ready to kick or hit him.
“Last chance—” Reed began.
Paisley burst through the screen.
She had a split second to enjoy the guards’ eyes bulging in shock as she hurtled toward their faces, and then she was on them. Paisley wrapped all four legs around the nearest guard’s head, like the face-hugger in Alien. He flailed his arms wildly, his shriek muffled in her belly fur.
She raked her claws
He was also, Paisley noticed, sitting right beneath the screen she was hiding behind. Her worry eased a little at the thought that his position had to be deliberate. He might not be anywhere near as badly hurt as he looked.
The last man in the room was the only one who was unarmed. He was a big guy in a suit, with fleshy features and an aura of scumbag. Paisley recognized him from the info Eli and Jackson had given her: Victor Reed, the CEO of SmartDefense. Her lips writhed back in a soundless snarl.
Claw his eyeballs out! Paisley’s cat howled.
She forced herself to hold back and think like a human. Reed wasn’t the important one. The guards were, with their guns. She wasn’t sure how much Jackson could do; he was injured, and he wasn’t a fighter like Eli. But if she could distract the guards for even a few seconds, she bet Eli could take them all out.
Unfortunately, none of the guards were within leaping distance. The person Paisley was closest to was Jackson, but though his guards had pistols aimed at him, they were standing across the room. She gave an inner growl of frustration.
Eli’s blue gaze scanned the room, avoiding Paisley’s vent, then settled on Jackson. She hoped Eli had guessed that she was there.
“Who else knows about your little mission?” Reed demanded.
Eli hesitated, biting his lower lip and looking nervous and uncertain. Since Paisley had seen that Eli stayed calm even when he thought he was dying, that gave her confidence. He was plotting something.
“No one,” Eli said at last. “No one knows. Just Jack— uh— Brandon and me.”
Reed rolled his eyes. “We know who your friend is. Once we figured out that you were the SEAL who complained about the armor, we looked up your associates. He’s Jackson Ford, the inventor. Who else knows?”
“No one!” Jackson put in. His voice was slurred and weak, just like Eli’s had been when he’d been poisoned. It was so similar, in fact, that it had to be an imitation. Paisley’s confidence rose again.
“We didn’t tell—” Jackson broke off with a grunt of pain. He clutched at his side.
“Did they kick you in the ribs?” Eli asked. He bit his lip again, looking worried.
“Yeah,” Jackson mumbled.
Eli turned to Reed. He sounded increasingly desperate as he spoke. “Jackson needs medical attention. I think he has broken ribs. He might be bleeding internally. Look, let’s forget about this whole thing. You took away our proof. There’s nothing we can do to stop the contract now. Let me take him to the hospital, and none of— neither of us— will ever say anything. I already lost Ryan— I can’t lose Jackson too!”
Reed’s lips curled in an unpleasant smile. “ None of you will ever say anything? I think you’re still holding out on me. If you don’t want to lose Jackson too —” Reed mockingly imitated Eli’s tones. “—then you won’t keep lying.”
Reed snapped his fingers at the four armed guards, gesturing to them to move closer to Jackson. They stepped toward him but, to Paisley’s frustration, halted outside of her jumping range.
“Who else knows?” Reed demanded.
“No one!” Eli’s voice cracked. “Come on, don’t do this. He’s injured already— one more blow could kill him!”
“What happens to him is completely up to you.” Reed flicked his fingers at the guards.
They stepped forward again, coming closer and closer, until they stood over Jackson. The guards lowered their guns, getting ready to kick or hit him.
“Last chance—” Reed began.
Paisley burst through the screen.
She had a split second to enjoy the guards’ eyes bulging in shock as she hurtled toward their faces, and then she was on them. Paisley wrapped all four legs around the nearest guard’s head, like the face-hugger in Alien. He flailed his arms wildly, his shriek muffled in her belly fur.
She raked her claws
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