Noah scrambled against the bathroom door, every nerve firing with adrenaline and urging him to flee, but he was unable to look away.
Alistair’s powerful arms had snatched Medina back by his neck, holding him firmly. “Stop now, or else—”
Medina swung wildly, driving the knife into Alistair’s shoulder.
Alistair’s response was to violently twist Medina’s head back.
There was an audible pop as Medina’s neck snapped, and he dropped lifelessly to the floor.
“Fuck,” Alistair hissed. He seemed annoyed, as if that hadn’t been what he wanted to do. His expression was otherwise smooth, calm, and he didn’t seem particularly upset about what he had done.
Noah thought he might throw up, but he couldn’t move. Even as his muscles were screaming to use the rush of new power gifted by his fear, he was frozen there by the bathroom door. He couldn’t wrap his head around hearing Alistair cursing, much less that he’d just murdered Medina.
Medina… Brad. Whoever he was, was now dead.
Noah couldn’t look away from his body. He kept thinking Medina was going to get up, but he’d never seen anything so still before. He didn’t even realize Alistair was at his side until he spoke.
“Noah!” Alistair had his hands outstretched but not yet touching him, frowning at him worriedly.
“Shit!” Noah jerked away, startled.
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
“No,” Noah managed. He took a deep breath and pushed his way into Alistair’s arms, squeezing him tight. “No. He tried. Fuck, but he tried.”
There was a commotion at the door, Crybaby limping in and announcing, “Fire is out! Everybody is okay…” She saw the body. “Ah, fuck.”
Junior, Mace, and Erasmus were walking into the room behind her, and they all had their guns drawn. They relaxed when it was obvious that the immediate source of danger was dead, and no one appeared particularly alarmed. Honestly, it seemed like they were just annoyed.
“Shit.” Junior huffed lightly. “Well, what the hell are we gonna do now?”
“Lemme call Raff,” Erasmus said. “I’ll have him take care of this.”
By this, he meant Medina’s corpse.
“It should appear natural,” Alistair instructed. “I don’t care what it costs. Let Mr. Rose know we need him to be found.”
“Yes, Mr. Star.”
Everyone was so calm, like this was another day at the office or something and the coffee machine had broken down.
No big deal.
Just a fuckin’dead body.
Of the guy who had attempted to kill Noah.
Noah could see Medina coming at him with the knife again, and he shuddered, trying to will the memory away. He hugged Alistair closer.
“Alistair,” Crybaby murmured. Her voice was concerned, and Noah didn’t think she’d ever used his first name before. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine. I’ll handle it later.” Alistair turned to frown at her, catching her limp as she approached. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Mr. Star. Mace hit me with a chair.”
Mace gasped, clearly offended. “Accidentally!”
“Noah okay?” Crybaby sounded genuinely worried.
