I clear the room, scanning every corner and the bathroom before I step over one of her attackers, grab her arm, and drape it over my shoulder. “We have to get out of here, Dani. Right fucking now.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dani
My head poundslike someone used it to play basketball, and I want to throw up. The stench of blood—harsh and coppery—is all I can smell, and as Trevor lifts me to my feet, I realize why.
It paints the wall behind me. Dots my forehead and chest. I think there’s a drop in my eye. And, oh God. What’s that on my cheek? It’s…sticky.
“Trevvvvv.” My stomach pitches, and I push away from him, fall to my knees, and vomit.
“Dani. Sweetheart.” He’s next to me, brushing my hair away from my face. “We can’t stay here, baby. I’m going to pick you up now, okay?”
“I…donnn…can’t…” I retch again, but push up and grab Trevor’s arm. “T-tabllllet.
Shit. My words don’t even make sense to me, how the hell is he supposed to understand? He scoops me into his arms and carries me out of my room and into his where he sets me on the bed. “I’ll get your stuff. Sit here and do not move.”
My vision is hazy, but I reach for a bottle of water on his nightstand to rinse out my mouth, and he slaps it away. “No!”
“Trev…?”
Warm hands cup my cheeks, and I smell gunpowder. “It was drugged, Dani. I barely made it in there in time. We have maybe five minutes before the National Police show up. I need to get you some clothes and then we’re getting out of here. But I can’t do that if I have to worry about you moving from this spot.”
“I can help.” My mind’s starting to clear slightly, and my words are sharper. Still slow, still hard to force out, but adrenaline is taking over.
“No.” He doesn’t give me a moment to argue, instead rushing back into my room where I hear him shoving stuff into my backpack. Wiping the back of my hand over my cheeks, I come away with streaks of blood, and my stomach roils.
He just shot two men. Two men who were going to take me somewhere I might never have escaped from. The horror of our situation settles over me, and my eyes start to burn. But I can’t cry. I won’t. I have to pull myself together so we can get out of here.
Trevor’s jacket is draped over a chair, and I shrug into it, letting his scent replace that of the blood and calm me. Shoes. I need shoes. Well, pants too, but definitely shoes.
“Come on, Dani,” he says as he crosses back into the room to find me halfway to the adjoining door. “Shit. I told you—“ Shaking his head, he mutters something I can’t quite hear, then shoulders his duffel bag. “We’re heading for the service elevator, then to Leo’s place.”
His words are coming so quickly, they almost blend together, and he takes my hand and leads me into the dimly lit hallway. We jog to the stairwell, and as soon as the door closes behind us, Trevor pulls out a small tool—almost like a screwdriver—and jams it between the door and the frame. “This will slow them down,” he explains, then drops my backpack and rummages inside before finding a pair of pants and my running shoes. “Put these on.”
As I do, he shoves his feet into boots and straps on his chest harness, then pulls a linen button down shirt from his bag to cover up his weapons.
“Look at me, Dani.”
I do, and he takes the edge of the black jacket I’m wearing and swipes it over my left cheek, then my chin.
“Okay. That’s most of the blood. Did they hurt you? Can you run?”
“I can rr-run,” I say, though I don’t know how he can understand me as my teeth have started to chatter. The stairway is air-conditioned, but it’s not warm, and in the back of my mind, I know this is shock setting in.
Keep it together, Dani.
Trevor cups the back of my neck, pulls me close, and kisses me with such fervor, for a second, I forget someone just tried to kidnap me. “You’re okay, baby. I promise. And I’m going to keep you that way.”
Before I can respond, Trevor hoists my backpack and his duffel bag again, takes my hand, and leads me down the stairs and out into the warm, humid night.
* * *
Trevor
The hotel backs up to an alley, and we rush alongside the building until we come to the corner, then I pull Dani against my left side and scan the street. At the far corner of the hotel, a white van idles. All of its lights are off, but the street lamp illuminates the exhaust coming out of the tail pipe.
“Other way,” I whisper, and we hurry south. This street is busier, even at 3:00 a.m. I don’t see any obvious threats, but my racing heart and the impending crash I know is coming don’t leave me very confident in my own abilities. “Keep watch for anything or anyone who stands out. I need to find us a car.”
