"We have to move fast," she says, her eyes wide.
The shots are deafening. It feels like each bullet is aimed at my eardrums. I'm filled with adrenaline so potent that it overrides the effect of the drug.
I follow her.
We hit the ground running. Hot air beats against my face as I move.
A mad laugh tears from Sarah’s lips. She glances back at me.
"I should have done this ages ago," she says.
The armed agents see Sarah's rags and my sheer dress. They reluctantly let us slip through their barricade.
My feet slow when I see where she's taking me. There's a network of tunnels built into the outer edge of the stadium. That's where we're headed.
I hesitate.
It's dark inside those tunnels. I don't want to be shrouded in darkness again. As long as the sun is shining down on me, it feels like everything will be okay.
"What's wrong?" Sarah asks, turning around to look at me.
"I don't want to go back in there," I say, struggling to keep my breathing even.
"It's the only way out," she says.
She’s probably right, but I don't know how to tell her that I'm not sure if I completely trust her.
I've been deceived before by people who were supposed to care for me. Before I can say something, a shadow falls over us. For a moment, I think it's the clouds, but that’s not what this is. Someone is standing behind me.
I glance over my shoulder.
It's the handsome stranger. The one whose eyes felt electric on my skin. Whose attention made me restless between my thighs.
There's a storm of desire and anger burning in his eyes now.
"Where do you think you're going, Grace?" he asks.
When I hear his rich voice, I forget where I am. I forget what brought me here. I forget myself.
Sarah snarls from behind me. She lunges at the man, holding a gleaming knife in her right hand.
"She's not yours to take," she screams, a perfect picture of female rage.
His large hand encloses her wrist. He doesn’t break eye contact with me. The knife clatters to the ground.
"I disagree," the man says. "Shedoesbelong to me."
Another piece of my heart unravels. I don't understand why this man has such an effect on me. I don't understand why I don't hate him like I should.
And hisscent. I have the sudden urge to get closer just to fill my lungs with more of him.
"I don't belong to anyone," I say. "Not anymore."
"Letgoof me," Sarah snarls.
Instead of dropping her wrist, he twists it. It's not to hurt her, but to read the tattoo on the inside of her wrist.
"You're one of the servant girls," he says.
