“I can’t wipe your face from people’s memories!” Toby roars.
“You’re speaking to a commander, soldier,” I say, tone flat. “I strongly recommend you check the fucking attitude.”
Toby wisely falls silent, though I hear his heavy, angry breaths, like the pants of a bull. “Cain will be pissed.”
“Cain has his own problems to focus on,” I reply. “Do your job, and don’t tell me how to do mine.”
Another pause. “When do you expect to make it back to headquarters?”
Greyson’s still pissed at me for feeling protective over his woman, so he refused to loan me a helicopter or jet, which leaves me stuck with driving. I could drive straight through the night—if I were alone, that’s exactly what I’d do—but I’mnotalone. I have Ember with me. I already knocked her out; there’s no use in being a complete dick.
Besides, driving at night is safer when I know I might get chased.
“I’m finding a motel before the sun comes up, then I’ll resume when night falls and traffic clears,” I decide aloud. “Expect me in about two days.”
“Fine. Be ready to face the two other fuckers in charge.” Toby hangs up on me.
I press my foot to the gas, itching to get the fuck out of the open, and take Ember somewhere it’s safe.
Chapter Five
Ember
Ilet him think I’m asleep, even though unconsciousness rarely clings to me for more than an hour, unless I’ve crashed.
The redhead made the very stupid mistake of not drugging me—that might’ve had me out a bit longer.
He also didn’t tie my feet together. All of this is to say; the moment he pulls over to the motel he mentioned on the phone, I’m getting the hell out of here. I need to get back to Dagon. Not because I have any desire to, but because I know full well what’s at stake.
I will do anything to protect the last pure bit of my life. Anything, including killing anyone Dagon tells me to kill. Marrying him, if he ever follows through on that threat. Letting him fuck me, a threat I’mcertainhe’s eager to follow through on.
I don’t have much of a soul left, butshestill does, and the assassin who claims to know me is also the man who’s unknowingly threatening her. I have to kill him and escape.
A few hours pass before Max pulls into a nearly-abandoned parking lot of a shitty motel and parks the car. I watch through a barely-open eye, until I feel him turn to face me, at which point I let my eyes completely flutter shut and keep still. I can feel his eyes on me, sensehim discerning whether or not I’m still in a deep sleep, passed out from some pressure on my carotid.
He gazes at me for several endlessly long beats, then seems to decide I’m not a threat, and exits the car. I listen to thetap-tap-tapof his footsteps echoing across the parking lot, and that’s when I open one eye, just a crack.
He’s disappearing into the lobby of the motel I glimpsed. I open both eyes fully and sit up, cracking my neck. Then, I take a few beats to appraise my hands. They’re tied well—there’s no slipping out of these knots, unfortunately for me. My lips thin with irritation, but a thread of admiration courses through me.
Whoever Max really is, he handled himself well. Admirably well. He’s strong, he’s composed, and while what he did at the casino was unbelievably reckless, it was also brave.
I have no clue what he wants me for—probably to torture me for information about Dagon—but Idoknow that I’m not sticking around to find out.
I reach forward with my bound hands, unlock the door, and slip out of it. It’ll be awkward, running in high heels with my hands bound, but it’s doable… if I get rid of the heels. So that’s what I do.
Broken glass tears through my hose and pricks the calloused the soles of my feet as I start jogging across the parking lot, but I ignore the pain. If there’s anything the last five years have done for me, it’s instill a pain tolerance that makes me pretty much useless to any captors during torture. I’d sooner kill myself than give up information that endangersher…but, unfortunately, suicide would violate the deal Dagon offered me.
I live to serve him. I keep myself alive and always return to him, and she’s safe.
I fail, die, or escape, and she’s dead.
That’s all I need to know.
It’s dark out, and the farther I get from the motel, the less I can see. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, but not well enough for me to see everything. My feet sting and burn. My breaths saw in and out of me—despite my life the last few years, I’m still shit at cardio—but I force myself to persevere.
Then, I hear an animalistic roar of fury behind me, booming from the motel’s parking lot.Looks like pretty-boy assassin realized I’m gone.
And that’s when my brisk jog turns into a full-on sprint. I don’t know where I’m going—this motel is just off the highway, and it’s in a scarce area, but I see lights ahead. Maybe from a strip mall. If I can make it, I can find a way to free my hands, and—
