He was focused—focused on me, and with every touch he made, I started to believe that he was losing himself the way he did when it was just the two of us in the privacy of our bedroom. He hitched in a breath, sliding one hand up to my neck while the other stayed over my breast, and when he began to kiss along my jaw and I could practically hear the hammering of his heart, I felt his tension.
All eyes were on Drew’s touch, sickeningly encapsulated by their perverted natures and the curiosity of how far he was willing to go with his last wish. They were too engrossed, wondering if Drew would use his last moments alive to fuck me in front of them all. Their minds had gone to such a depraved place, they didn’t even seem to register how close Drew’s hand was to the blade of Cortez’s knife.
Neither did I. Whether it was love, hope or the simplicity of wishful thinking, my body had fallen under his spell. Every brush of his lips and fingers had me sinking deeper into the security net he had fabricated for me.
It was then that it happened.
“Run,” he whispered, his lips still against my skin.
My mouth parted to ask how, but before I even had time to form the thought, Drew’s arm had tensed and snapped for Cortez’s blade, the sudden movement of his attack catching the Emp off guard as he ripped it from his grip, twisting it around in a half circle to slash it through the air and stab it directly in the waist of the man behind him.
The warehouse filled with primal growls and gasps of disbelief as Drew pulled the knife out of his victim’s flesh, spun it in his grip, only to launch it through the air straight in Cortez’s direction.
I didn’t look behind me. The only reason I knew it had hit was the loud groan of pain that was distinctly Chester Cortez. I barely had time to shift my shaking limbs when Drew had a gun shoved into my hand and was grabbing one in each of his, swinging them around on the men closest to him. One fired, one didn’t, and as much as I wanted to stick around and make sure he was safe, there was a louder part of me—one I’m pretty sure he’d conditioned—that knew if I stopped now, I would get us both killed. We had the element of surprise but that wasn’t going to last forever.
I couldn’t fuck up his plans now. I had to run.
I dodged every hand that seemed to reach for me as I moved, my head finding solace from my predicament by throwing football plays in my mind, keeping me occupied away from the horrific reality I was slap bang in the middle of.
My eyes darted around the place, looking for the best means of escape. I couldn’t double back on myself, which meant the only way I had to go was forward, toward the only door I could see in the darkness.
I burst through it like hell was on my heels, and barely stopped to glance around. All I knew was that it wasn’t the exit I’d been praying for. Instead, it was an even darker room than the one I’d been in before. There were no lights, not even a bared, dull bulb that had been the only illumination in the torture room. It was just dirty, grimy windows that barely allowed a diffused glow through them.
I didn’t stop running. I couldn’t, and as I passed all the old machinery, I heard boots slapping the concrete behind me.
I was being followed, which was only confirmed all the more when I heard the metallic slam of the door being thrown closed and locked behind us. I darted between the machinesas fast as I could and looped around on myself in the maze, effectively losing him and forcing myself into a crouch behind a corner. In order to stay alive, I had to be silent, and I had to keep moving.
I just hoped it was enough.
Chapter Forty-Four
Drew
Ididn’t breathe until I saw her run away. My face was tense, each cheek blown out as I held all the air in my body and kept my focus on the men in front of me. Cortez was stumbling around to my side, one man dead on my left next to Maisey Sutton. The gun with the blank had done shit except stun the Emp it was aimed at as he froze and closed his eyes, waiting for his own impending death.
Every fucking part of my body creaked under the weight of the pressure I put on it as I rolled back onto my front and reached into the box. Pulling another two guns out, I spun them around as fast as my beat up bones would allow me, falling back on my ass again as another Emp came towards me. His gun was most definitely loaded and when he moved to stand over me, his arms locked in a hold with the barrel aimed directly at my forehead.
The look in his eyes said it all. He had no time for the fun and games of Cortez. This fucker wanted me dead hours ago. He wanted revenge for his fallen brothers.
As he moved to stand over me, there was no small smile of satisfaction, no smartass words to tell me that today was a good day to die, no arrogance or confidence oozing out of him.
Just absolute pure fucking hatred for the Hound at hisfeet.
He sniffed quietly, landing his foot on one of my arms to crush it down, forcing the guns away from his direction before he shook his head and sucked in a giant breath.
That’s when I lost sight of him. All I saw was the small black tunnel in front of me that would eventually deliver my own death.
Then the gun went off and the blood splashed all across my face like a warm fucking shower of red.
But I was still breathing. I was still breathing, and as I opened my eyes to see what had happened, the man above me began to fall forward, gravity making him sway one way, then another before it took over and he came crashing down beside me with a bullet hole straight through his head.
I grunted loudly as the weight of him pressed against all my existing injuries and the ear piercing scream of the girl, Sofia, sang out around the warehouse. I didn’t have time to wait around. I didn’t know how many Emps were even in there, but Cortez was wounded and two were now dead. As I pushed the guy away and rolled him to the side, I slid back, pushing my feet against the concrete to find some movement.
Picking up the guns and swiveling on the floor, I spun to a shaky stand and pointed both guns straight ahead of me at eye level.
Sutton was standing there limply, his shoulder hanging to one side and half of his face covered in more blood than I bet he’d seen in his life. He was a fucked up painting of black and red, but he’d just saved my motherfucking life by putting a bullet through an Emp’s head.
Every breath I took in was heavy as I stared at him in disbelief, but then the real shit hit the fan and I was lost again.Charging at his waist, a heavy-set guy in leather threw Sutton down like he weighed nothing. The sound of his head cracking against the concrete was almost as loud as the gun going off, sending a bullet whizzing straight past my ear. I ducked out of the way, acting on instinct rather than knowledge, and it was impossible to ignore the heavy wave of noise and the banging inside my head as the injuries I’d sustained throbbed at the sudden movement.
