“I’m fine,” I say firmly, then wince as one of my spindly heels twists to the side yet again. “Let me get rid of these.” I glance down. He pauses as I lift each foot in turn and slide my feet out of my shoes. There’s another gunshot. I hear a male voice yell hoarsely. Mateo pulls me close up against him as he sweeps a look around the room.
“We won’t get out the main doorway or the emergency exit,” he says, leaning down and speaking into my ear over the noise. His breath is warm on my cheek. Despite everything, it makes me shiver. “There’s a service entrance across the room. It’s our best bet. You okay to make a run for it?”
“Sure.” I nod, amazed at how steady my voice sounds. Because right now, I’m freaking out. Shaking inside. It’s a good thing he’s got a hold on my arm. If he took my hand, he’d feel how sweaty my palms are. I see him sweep another look around the room and then he’s tightening his grip again.
“Okay…on the count of three…two…one!” He bolts and drags me along with him, yanking me down as shots sound around us again. Then I’m back on my feet and stumbling after him as he pulls me up. Each time there’s another loud report, I find myself dragged up to him. It takes me a moment to realize he’s shielding me with his body.
Oh, my God! Please don’t get shot!
Most of the guests are now milling near the two doorways, and I realize that the only people left in the club area are the ones trying to kill each other. And it looks like they’ll take us out in the process. Men in suits are scurrying low, taking shelter behind tables and counters. A head pops out behind a pillar and more shots are exchanged. I close my eyes and try not to scream.
“Ricci! I’ve got you covered!” someone yells out. Mateo puts on a turn of speed and it’s all I can do to keep up as we streak across the last half of the room. I can barely breathe by the time we reach the door there. Terror consumes me, adrenaline coursing, but I fight to keep a cool head. There’s no time for hysterics now. We have to get out.
Mateo reaches for the handle and turns it. The door doesn’t budge.
“Fuck,” I hear him mutter beneath his breath. In an instant, he’s aiming his weapon and there’s another explosion as he fires a shot into the lock mechanism. Shards of wood fly as the doorframe splinters. When he reaches for the handle again, the door swings open easily, and then I’m being hauled forward again.
The room beyond is in shadow. I’m dimly aware of towering boxes, racking, and shelving of some sort. There’s the smell of bleach and cleaning equipment. I can only imagine how hard the surfaces of this place need to be scrubbed down each day. But I don’t get much time to think about it, because we’re out of the room and through another door.
Beyond the mayhem of the club that we’ve just escaped from, it’s almost blissfully silent. Just Mateo’s heavy footfalls, and my bare feet slapping on the bare floor. My breath is rasping; fear and exertion combine to take the air from my lungs. Mateo, meanwhile, is barely breathing heavily. Though I’ve noticed him flinch once or twice when I’ve fallen too heavily against him.
I suddenly remember the conversation with Mark and the men at the restaurant. The one where he said Mateo had been injured. My heart surges to see him looking unharmed. But then again, my heart surges at the mere sight of him.
He came for me!
Fuck…
I’m never going to get another chance to get that close to Mark. But then again, maybe the bastard won’t make it out of here alive, anyway. Would it matter if he died by someone else’s hand? Surely it’s good enough just to have his vile stench wiped off the planet, regardless of who does it?
Again, I have little time to dwell on it. There’s yet another door ahead, and this time Mateo doesn’t bother trying the handle. He just fires two rounds into the lock and kicks it open. And then we’re outside, careening into the street. There’s a chill in the air and my heated skin ripples with gooseflesh as an icy breeze flits over my arms.
“Over here,” Mateo says curtly. He’s still moving at speed, though I’m pretty sure nobody came after us. My thigh muscles are burning but I keep running. He’s holding my hand now. There’s relief in having the bruising grip on my arm released. But feeling his fingers threading through mine is almost more unsettling. We’ve emerged into a dark alley and are still moving quickly. A narrow street intersects the one we’re running down and as we dash around a corner, a dark shape looms ahead. Street light reflects off the gleaming surface of a black motorbike.
Holy shit!
“Put this on.” Mateo passes me a bike helmet; he’s already fastening the strap of his own under his chin and swings a long leg over the saddle. I tear off the ridiculous gemstone mask and pull the helmet onto my head. He pats the seat behind him, and I clamber on. “Ready?” he asks as I settle myself, trying to feel stable.
“Ready!” My voice is muffled, but still so darn steady. How am I sounding so calm?
“Hold on tight,” he says, as the engine roars to life. I tighten my arms around his waist, pressing up against his broad back. Once again, I feel him flinch slightly, though I’m too afraid to loosen my death grip. Especially when he gives a quick backward glance over his shoulder and then we’re surging onto the road so fast it’s hard to see what’s passing us.
It still doesn’t seem as fast as my own heartbeat though. It’s pounding so hard I’m half afraid it’s going to explode.
It feels like an eternity before I finally get my breath back. I’m cold enough for my teeth to be chattering, though it could also be the shock. I can’t believe what happened back there. I press more firmly against him, feeling my bare legs press against the fabric of his pants. Beneath them, I feel the muscles of his thighs moving against mine as he powers the bike through the streets, weaving through traffic.
Once again, he’s come to my rescue. And once again, I find myself clinging to him. Though he shouldn’t have been there. Everything is ruined!
The road around us shines beneath the headlight and I grow colder, realizing that the air is not just freezing, it’s wet. The fabric of my dress clings to my skin.
Rain has begun to pour, the black sky overhead torn by streaks of white light.
It’s storming as we make our escape. And somehow, that makes sense.
Chapter 20
Mateo Ricci
There’s a new security team at the entrance to my apartment block – the other guys had gone with me to the club and are probably still there doing battle with Raoul and his crew. The men part to allow us through as we reach the doorway. At least I know it’s secure.
