“Save it.” I jumped down, seized her arm, and pulled her toward the door. “You could have killed yourself.”
Something fierce and uncompromising flashed in her eyes despite the tears from the smoke. “Better than being your bargaining chip.”
The words hit harder than they should have. I recognized that look—the same desperate determination I’d seen so many times, felt so many times. The willingness to risk everything rather than remain under someone else’s control.
“Next time, find a less stupid, less suicidal method,” I growled and dragged her into the corridor where the air was clearer. My grip on her arm was firm but careful, mindful of her injuries. “I need you alive…for now.”
She glared up at me, defiant even as she struggled to breathe properly. “Sorry to inconvenience your plans.”
I studied her face, noting the calculation and pure determination.
This wasn’t just panic or rebellion—she’d had a plan, however poorly executed. And she executed on it.
Grudging admiration mixed with my anger. Not that it would change anything.
I scooped her up before she could protest, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back. Her slight weight was nothing against my training, but the way she immediately stiffened in my arms told me everything I needed to know about her state of consciousness earlier.
“I should have known you were faking it the whole time,” Igrowled, navigating through the smoke-filled corridor as hospital staff rushed past us with fire extinguishers.
“Put me down,” she demanded, pushing against my chest. “I can walk.”
“So you can try to disappear in the chaos? Not happening.” I tightened my grip as we approached the emergency exit. “Your little fire stunt just compromised a secure facility and endangered lives. Congratulations.”
She stopped struggling for a moment, her eyes meeting mine with unexpected directness. “I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. Just wanted to get the damn door to open.”
“Next time, consider the consequences before you play with fire,” I snapped, shouldering through the exit door into the cool night air. “There are a lot of vulnerable people here.”
“There won’t be a next time if you’d just let me go,” she shot back, then coughed again, her body shaking against mine.
Great, fucking great. Now, on top of her head wound and possible concussion, she suffered from smoke inhalation. Talk about damaged goods. At least it wasn’t Isabella because Grey would sure as shit lose it if I damaged his current obsession.
I carried her swiftly to the car parked in the secure lot. “Not an option.”
Once at the vehicle, I set her down but kept a firm grip on her arm while opening the passenger door. “Get in.”
She hesitated and looked around—was probably calculating her chances.
I could practically see the gears turning in her head. “Do not test me,” I warned. “I’m not above using violence, trussing you up like a turkey, and throwing you in the trunk if you push me any further.”
She glared at me, then with a resigned huff, she climbed in.
I secured her seatbelt myself, not trusting her to stay put otherwise, then rounded the vehicle and got behind the wheel.
We pulled away from the hospital, leaving the commotion behind even before the fire trucks arrived.
The confined space of the car was filled with tension.
Mirabella Salvini had her arms crossed and was silently stewing and glaring at me from across the car.
The roads were clear, and it was completely dark once we entered the mountain road.
Good. Just with the headlights cutting through the night, she wouldn’t remember the road.
“Where are you taking me now?” she demanded after several minutes of silence.
“Somewhere you can’t harm others,” I replied, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Somewhere I can keep you in my line of sight.” And hopefully I can give her back to Salvini or Grey, or whoever, come morning.
I called Grey. “What’s next?”
