I study the rifle as Luke ejects the chambered round. “Don’t I just take aim and pull the trigger?”

“Kind of.” He bends to pick up the ejected bullet. “This is like the one I learned on, except it has an automatic and a semiautomatic mode. I’ve switched it to single fire, because—again—we only have five bullets.”

I take the rifle from him, and it’s heavier than I expected. I thought it would make me feel strong, but it makes me feel small and awkward. “How do I hold it?”

“Like this.” Luke positions the back of the stock against my shoulder, then guides my left hand to cup the grip around the back of the rifle’s long barrel. “This is called the handgrip.”

When he moves into place behind me, his chest brushes my back, and I want to lean into him. To just . . . close the space between us and let that gesture say the things I don’t know how to tell him. Because I can’t trust my mouth not to mess this up again.

“It’s unloaded, but you should get in the habit of keeping your finger off the trigger unless you’re ready to fire,” he says, and I can feel his breath on my neck. “Now aim at that tree.”

“That one?” I let go of the handgrip to point, and Luke guides my hand back into place. He’s confident with the rifle. His hands are steady.

“Yes. Keep both hands on the gun.” He lifts it a little higher against my shoulder, and he’s pressed so closely against me now that I can feel every breath he takes. “Now line up the rear sight and the front sight and make sure they’re right over what you want to shoot.”

“What do I want to shoot?”

“See that knothole?” His breath brushes my ear, and I nod, afraid that if I speak, everything I’m thinking will fall out. I need this lesson. This gun and those five shells are the only chance I’ll get to avenge Ryan. But the closer I get to Luke, the less I want to drag him into this.

Luke readjusts my grip on the rifle, and his hip presses against mine. He lifts the barrel a little higher, and a cord of muscle stands out from his arm. I blink and force my focus back to the tree.

“Line the sights up and squeeze the trigger. Gently.”

I squeeze. The trigger clicks. Luke pushes the rifle up by the barrel and shoves the stock into my shoulder.

“Hey!” Startled, I drop the gun.

Luke catches it with one hand.

“What was that for?” All thoughts of kissing him are gone.

“I was simulating kickback,” Luke says. “For an authentic experience. The first time you fire a rifle, it might knock you back a couple of steps, if your stance isn’t right. You have to be prepared. Which does not include dropping the gun.”

“Well, you could have warned me!”

“Sorry.” He tries to hide a grin.

“What’s so funny?”

“You just looked so surprised.”

It’s hard to be anything but tired and terrified, knowing that the Moreno cartel is involved in my cousin’s kidnapping and my brother’s murder, but Luke’s smile is contagious. And he’s finally stopped putting distance between us.

“Are you ready?” he asks, still grinning.

“Yeah.”

Luke picks up my backpack and hands it to me. “Let’s do it.” His face flushes over the accidental innuendo. “That’s not what I meant,” he says, and I can’t stifle a laugh.

I like that I don’t have to wonder what he’s thinking or feeling. He isn’t playing games. He isn’t trying to get me drunk. He isn’t hiding a beautiful French girlfriend.

He isn’t hiding anything. Every thought he has falls right out of his mouth, and that’s actually kind of refreshing. And funny.

With a warm jolt of surprise, I realize I really want to kiss Luke again.

10 HOURS EARLIER

GENESIS

Across the fire pit, Holden is whispering with Penelope, Domenica, and Rog. I can only hear every other word, but that’s more than enough to lift the mystery from his escape plan.

Wait until everyone’s asleep. Disable the guards on duty. Run.

His plan is disastrously simplistic and dangerous, but I can’t blame them for considering it. We have to do something. And my plan has failed.

“He’s going to get them killed,” Indiana says as he sinks onto the mat next to me and hands me a bottle of water.

“I don’t know.” I unscrew the lid and drink until my stomach feels a little less empty. “Maybe Holden’s onto something.”

“No,” Indiana says. “He’s not.”

I set the bottle down and turn to face him fully. “Silvana is going to let Álvaro chop me into pieces so my dad can hear me scream over the phone,” I tell him.

Indiana’s jaw clenches. He takes my hand. “Genesis, I won’t—”

“You can’t stop it. And my dad won’t be able to stand it. He’ll cave, and a lot of people will die. Then he’ll go to prison. But if I run, Silvana will have no way to convince my dad to cooperate.”

“Holden’s plan doesn’t sound any smarter when it comes out of your mouth, G.” He rubs my knuckle with his thumb. “We won’t all make it out of here if we try to run, and the terrorists will still have their bombs. They will find another way into the US. If you run, you’ll only be delaying the inevitable.”

“Damn it.” I give him a small shove, but his chest is tantalizingly unyielding. “Why do you have to poke holes in my plan?”

He laughs. “It’s Holden’s plan, and you were never going to go through with it.”

“How do you know that?”

Indiana leans in, and I’m caught in his hazel gaze. “I know because you are the moon, not the tide.” His lips brush the corner of my mouth with each syllable, and anticipation blazes through me. I’ve never wanted anything in my life like I want to kiss him. “You don’t roll with the flow, Genesis, you create the current. And Holden is nothing but a boat bobbing on the waves.”

Indiana takes my hand. His lips meet mine, and his other hand slides into my hair. His tongue traces my lower lip. I groan and my arms wind around his neck.

His kiss trails along my jaw toward my ear, and I let my head fall back. “Why did you wait so long?” I whisper.