Chapter 9 · Muscle Memory Mayhem

"Don't you fucking move." The barrel jammed hard against the back of my neck and shoved my face into the cold steel table.

"Hands flat. Now. You twitch, asset, and I paint the wall with you."

I had nothing on but Jax's shirt. It barely hit mid-thigh. My hands were slick with antiseptic and my own blood. Bare feet on concrete. No weapon. No cover.

"Whoa, whoa, hey!" Jax's voice cracked from the floor. He was on his knees where they'd kicked him. "She's not armed! She's not—"

"Shut it." A boot hit his ribs. Jax choked. "You're the hacker. Jax Corvo. You've got a bounty too, glitch-boy."

Two of them. Maybe three. The one on me, one on Jax, one at the door with a rifle. Olympus Cleaners. Matte black gear. No faces. Just red lenses.

"Asset Kaelen," the one behind me said, and his voice was bored. "You were supposed to stay deleted. Stand up. Slow."

"I don't know you," I hissed. My cheek scraped the table. "Get that gun off me."

"You don't need to know us. We know your spine, your mods, your kill count. Up. Now."

He yanked me by the back of the shirt.