Chapter 19 · Bay Nineteen

"Say the name, Marco." I don't pull my wrist out of his grip. I dig my nails into the back of his hand instead.

"Or I swear to God I'll scream loud enough for the harbor cops to hear it through the wall." The amber light on the panel blinks. Sixteen. Fifteen. My breath comes out white and hangs there, right between us, because the compressors are dead and the cold room doesn't care whose fight this is.

"Lower your voice." His hand doesn't loosen. If anything it tightens, thumb pressed flat against the thin skin over my pulse like he's counting it.

"You don't know what's on the other side of that hatch."

"I know it's not Cade." I shove my palm against his chest and he doesn't move an inch, doesn't even sway, just lets me feel exactly how much stronger he is and exactly how little that matters to him right now.

"You said it yourself. Nobody but your own people can lock seventeen from inside." The radio on his hip crackles again. That same voice, low, scraped up from somewhere wet. Not a name.