Book 3: Wedding Night

Dante

Jace is glaring at me sullenly from the other side of the room they’re keeping me in when the first gunshots ring out.

“What the fuck?” he says.

I grin. El’s here. Hopefully with the cavalry in tow. I scrape the stone in my ring over the plastic faster and faster. I’m almost through, and now, I have nothing to lose in Jace seeing me.

“Wait, what the fuck are you doing?” He leaps to his feet.

Out of time. Better hope I sawed enough. I tense my arms and yank.

One of the cuffs snaps just as Jace throws himself at me, his baton raised for another strike. Idiot. I use the momentum of the cuffs breaking to swing my right fist forward, directly into his cheek. The blow knocks him off balance just enough that I can drive my elbow into the meat of his bicep—not impressive-looking, but it makes him whimper—and that exposes his right side. Where the fucking moron still has his service weapon holstered. I snatch it out and fire two shot