“Samson?”
“The man who brought me here.”
Noah’s lip wobbles. “Don’t leave me. You take me with you?”
Rage flows through me at the anxious look on his little face. I’m a stranger to him, yet he’s willing to come with me if it means escaping this place.
Cupping his cheek, I look into his eyes. “I promise, Noah. I’ll get you out of here to somewhere safe.”
He shakes his head. “Not safe. I stay wiv you. You safe.”
“Okay, baby,” I agree. “We’ll fix it so you can stay with me.” And I will. If he doesn’t have parents or family that want him, I’ll claim him. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it won’t be the last, that my family provides love and safety for someone in need. We build connections for a reason.
“Promise?”
“I promise, sweetheart,” I say, pushing myself slowly and painfully to my feet using the wall behind me for support.
Noah stands and takes my hand, and we walk towards the door. Well, he walks while I shuffle. My ribs protest every step. I’m sweating and breathing hard by the time we reach the door. I’m not sure if I’m up to taking any more hits, but then a little hand squeezes mine, and I know I have no choice but to find the strength to get us out of here.
Bending, I examine the lock with my uninjured eye. I’ve picked one of these before. I hope it’s not bolted from the outside. Removing the lock picks from the hidden compartment in mylocket, I press my ear to the door. When I don’t hear anything, I get to work on the lock.
It seems to take forever, but I finally hear the lock release. Replacing the picks in my locket, I remove the other knife from my boot and grip Noah’s hand, pressing a finger to my lips so he knows to be quiet. He nods that he understands.
Cracking open the door, I peer into the dim corridor. We’re on a mezzanine floor, by the looks of it. Not a soul in sight. I’m not sure how to feel about that. I search for cameras but don’t see any.
Opening the door wider, I slip out into the corridor with Noah, and we inch towards the stairs. I peer over the railing but don’t see anyone. This is a different warehouse from earlier. I don’t recognise the layout.
We head silently down the stairs, and I hurry us towards a car parked in the main part of the warehouse. Unfortunately, when I get closer, I see it’s pointless trying to get it started—the engine is missing. Looking around, I spot an exit. I tighten my grip on Noah’s hand and my knife and edge us towards it.
Gunshots echo in the night. I duck behind the car, pulling Noah with me.
I hope to God that it’s Copper and the others.
Hunkering down, I whisper to Noah, “I think that’s my friends. We need to be quiet, okay? They’ll come and find us.”
“How?” he whispers, big blue eyes wide and frightened. Flinching at another volley of gunshots and what sounds like an explosion echoes through the night.
I don’t get a chance to answer because the warehouse door slams open.
Samson runs in, phone to his ear. “Yes, boss, I’m getting the boy now. What about the woman?”
A mewl of fright escapes Noah as he huddles closer.
Samson lifts his head at the sound, and his gaze lands on us. My eyes meet his, and my blood runs cold as he says, “Kill her. Yes, boss.”
He stalks across the warehouse towards us.
“Stay here,” I tell Noah.
He whimpers as I stand, but he releases my hand. I move away from the car, one hand braced against my ribs, which I’m pretty sure are fractured.
I brace myself for what’s coming. I know it’s going to hurt, but I’ll take Samson on or die trying to keep that little boy safe.
“You’re a lot more enterprising than I thought,” Samson informs me, stopping a few meters away. His eyes widen slightly as they flit to the knife in my hand.
“You really should check the people you kidnap for weapons,” I say mockingly. “Or maybe you only choose people you know can’t fight back, like most bullies.”
Samson chuckles as he pushes up his shirt sleeves. “You talk too much. I’m not like the boss. I won’t lose my temper when you mock me.”
