“What the fuck are you doing, Maisie?” Declan growled.

She yanked her hand free, resisting the urge to scream in pain. The smoke had thinned enough for her to see his furious face. His mouth was twisted in disgust.

“What you wouldn’t.”

“I gave you an order—”

“I don’t take orders from dumbasses.”

His nostrils flared.

From behind her, she heard Lennon yell.

She whirled around.

He was gone.

LENNON

SOMEONE GRABBED LENNON roughly from behind. Maisie disappeared in the smoke. He yelled in protest, and was rewarded with a punch straight to the face.

The world spun and darkened at the edges. His knees went weak.

Oh god, he was going to faint again.

He was getting kidnapped again.

The world came back into sharp focus. He tasted blood. A man had him in a choke hold.

Lennon dug his heels in, twisting against the solid arm. It disappeared.

He stumbled back, gasping for air. He ran a hand under his nose and saw blood on his fingers.

The man who’d had him in a choke hold lunged and took him by the collar. Another grabbed his hands, holding them behind his back. Around him, chaos.

“Get him on the bus now,” a familiar voice said. “Just go. Don’t wait for us. Get him south as fast as you can. Got it, Bruce?”

The man released his hands and Lennon looked over his shoulder to see Declan darting away.

The other man—Bruce, presumably—tightened his grip on his collar, and Lennon snapped his attention back to him. He made a fist, reeling back.

Lennon spun out of his grasp just in time to miss the punch.

Another pair of hands grabbed him. Then, the now-familiar feeling of a plastic zip tie against his skin.

No. He was not getting kidnapped again. He drew the fucking line at five kidnappings.

He tried to yank his arms apart, but it was too late. His wrists were bound together.

The man spun him around.

Lennon lifted his knee and drove it into the man’s groin.

The man yelled and doubled over. Lennon darted to the side, narrowly avoiding another pair of hands. A girl whizzed by him, nearly knocking him down.

Gunfire sounded nearby, and he instinctively ducked. Bruce’s face appeared in front of him, and Lennon quickly turned, ducking and weaving in between the women around him.

Bruce yanked on his shirt collar again and Lennon hit the ground, rolling away from him. Someone stomped on his leg. He scrambled to his feet.

“Get them!” a woman yelled.

A hand grabbed the front of his shirt. Lennon looked up. Declan. He pointed his gun at Lennon’s face.

“If you—”

Lennon drew his head back and slammed it straight into Declan’s.

Stars danced in his vision. Christ, that hurt. Of all the stupid ideas.

He heard several loud curses, and then more gunfire. His hands were free suddenly. Declan was on the ground. Lennon whirled around, ready to run, but he smashed directly into another body.