“We’ll bring help,” Emily said. “Promise.”
The door was unlocked—stupidly. Maybe her luck was turning.
“I guess the rat bastards didn’t plan on escapees from their dog cages,” Gaby stated, as if reading her mind.
They moved down a wide corridor. The air was thick with a sharp, pungent odor—bleach, oil, something metallic. It clung to Emily’s throat. The hum of machinery vibrated through the walls.
They found the control room. A narrow window revealed a lone tech guy inside—laptop open, camera on, monitors showing a makeshift stage being assembled, Enzo supervising.
“What are they doing?” Gaby whispered.
“Getting ready to sell us at auction,” Emily replied.
“Pigs,” she spat. “Before the bidding starts, I need to see what’s on that laptop. There might be something about my sister. We need a diversion to get rid of that guy.”
They needed more than a diversion. They needed to take him out.
Emily scanned the hallway. She considered the wall-mounted fire extinguisher, but it might be too heavy and unwieldy. Farther down the hall was a tarp-covered cart. She hurried to it.
Bingo! There were tools—wrenches and hammers. But did she want to actually kill him? Could she?
She grabbed a long-barreled metal flashlight and weighed it in her hand. She also took a few practice swings.
Perfect.
“Hurry,” Gaby urged.
Emily closed the distance in a heartbeat. “You get him through the door, and I’ll knock him out.”
“We think the same way. I knew I liked you for a reason,” her coconspirator said with a quiet smile. With a hand on the doorknob, she glanced back, mouthing,Ready?
After flattening herself against the wall, weapon raised, heart thudding in her ears, Emily nodded.
The hinges squeaked as Gaby pushed the door open. Her eyes went wide—a pureoh-shitmoment. “Uh-oh,” she exclaimed then spun and bolted in the opposite direction.
“Hey!” the guy shouted. “Get back here.”
His footsteps pounded closer. Emily held her breath. The second he cleared the doorway and turned, she struck. The flashlight’s wide metal head connected with a sickeningthunkagainst his skull. He staggered two steps then dropped like a stone.
Gaby skidded to a halt beside her. They both stared down at the man—mid-twenties, glasses askew, limbs splayed, still breathing.
“Damn, girl,” she said in awe. “You’re a legit badass.”
The image of Alec in the gym, telling her to come at him, flashed through Emily’s mind. “No,” she replied. “But I’ve been taking lessons from one.”
“Either way. Remind me to never piss you off.”
Emily slid her hands under his shoulders. “Help me. He’s heavier than he looks.”
Together, they dragged him inside the control room and dumped him in a corner. Gaby got to work, fingers flying over the keys. Emily stood guard, eyes darting between the hallway and the unconscious man. Her body betrayed her—every nerve screaming from pain and the entire situation—but she stayed upright and sharp.
“There’s a bunch of files, but they’re password protected,” she said, clicking rapidly. “I’m emailing them to myself to figure out later.”
Voices echoed in the hall.
Emily’s breath caught. “Hurry. Someone’s coming.”
“Just another minute.”
