Shit.So much for taking the easy way.
And him pulling a gun on me already is a problem I didn’t see coming.
My mind flies through several different options, cataloging every possibility, but I’m not sure I can pull any of them off, and panic starts to rush through my veins.I don’t have anything but a card key and a stack of cash, and neither of those is going to get this guy off me.Even worse, I don’t know if he has orders to shoot.He might pull that trigger the moment I start to move.
I’m in trouble.
I’m about to move anyhow, counting on my instincts to be faster than this guy’s, when he clicks the safety off.
“Don’t even think about it,” he mutters.
Christ.Even I can tell this is bad.He’s just caught me trying to escape—and failing—and if he takes me back up to that room things are going to get ugly.This is my chance, and this asshole has me pinned against a wall, ready to shoot me.
Shit, shit shit.How do I get out of this?Think, Brooks, think!
And then someone else speaks.
“She’s mine.Let her go.”
The world stops spinning, because I know that voice.
Lucien.
Lucien is here.
Lucien
The man doesn’t move, just stands there like a fucking idiot with his gun still pressed to Brooks’ head, his eyes on her and his knuckles white with how hard he’s clutching that gun.
Drop.The.Gun,” I grind out.I want to kill the cunt.Rip him apart with my own hands for daring to threaten her.But I’m going to give him one chance to save his own life.
I know he won’t drop it.
I know it won’t matter if he does.
Because I’ve been searching for Brooks for what feels like years now, and this man is the only thing standing between me and her.It’s the most dangerous place in the world to be, and he’s going to pay for it.
He doesn’t drop the gun.
So I shoot him in the head.
He drops to the ground and I kick him aside, my eyes on my girl and my hands already reaching for her.She’s covered in blood now from the guy I just killed and she looks thinner than the last time.Shadows under her eyes, and her hair is a rat’s nest of tangles and curls.I could make a joke about how she looks and the fact that she probably needs a shower.I could say a lot of things.
But she’s never looked more glorious, and for a long moment the world around us slows down and fades into nothing more than background noise.I lift my hand up and run my fingers gently down her cheek, over her jaw, and to her neck.With my other hand I touch her lips, her nose, her eyelids.Brush a thumb across those eyebrows that are constantly telling me exactly what she’s thinking.I dust the skin of her cheeks with my own skin, trying to convince myself that she’s real and here.Not sold to some other man or awaiting shipment.Not dead or left in a ditch or deserted in some place where I can’t get here.
Something is happening inside me that I don’t understand.I feel as though someone has put a balloon inside me and decide to inflate it too quickly.The feelings are growing, expanding until I think I’m going to explode, and I don’t understand any of it.Two weeks ago, I barely remembered that Brooks was ever a part of my life, and now I don’t feel like I can breathe unless I know she’s safe and happy.
It’s the stupidest possible thing to want from a girl who lives a reckless, dangerous life and never does what anyone else tells her to.
And yet.
I’m about to kiss her, bury myself in her and mark her as my own, scream at her for leaving me and being so stupid, when a voice suddenly breaks through the bubble I’ve built around us.
“And here I thought you two were just friends.”
I turn, confused because I thought I just shot the only other person in this hallway, and find a face I never expected too see.
“Kate Fontenot?”
