“Sir…” Bastian’s whining now that Doc’s screams have faded away.
Sapier smells like cheap cologne and desperation. If my arms were free, I’d claw his eyes out. But all I can do is focus on Doc so I don’t have to meet his hungry gaze.
All the words we haven’t been able to say pass between us in the silence. His cheeks are wet with his own tears. I love him with everything I am. But that won’t be enough to save us.
“Do whatever you want to the doctor,” Sapier says, retreating so he can lean against the wall of dryers and peer down at his watch. “You have ten minutes. The prison administrator needs us out of here by eleven. The third shift starts at midnight.”
“I don’t have a shot,” Inara says in my ear. “Not with the bars and the glass and those two assholes between Doc and the window. Get them to move. The cavalry is on the way. Two, three minutes, tops.”
Bastian swipes a homemade shiv from one of the long tables on the right side of the room. “Not the most effective weapon,” he says, turning the plastic over in his hands. “Not long enough or strong enough to do real damage. But it hurts like a son of a bitch.”
He jabs the weapon into Doc’s bicep. Blood coats the plastic, and Doc lets out a strangled groan.
“Stop!” I stomp down on Doherty’s foot. He bites out an oath, then backhands me hard enough, I fall to my knees. Collins has to let me go, thank God, and I cup my throbbing cheek. “I dideverything you asked. Confessed to every crime. I want to tell him…what I didn’t get to say on the phone. Let me hold him and tell him… Youoweme that!”
Bastian rolls his eyes. “Try anything, and I’ll cut his dick off before I kill him.”
I keep my gaze on Doc as I stagger to my feet. Sweat dots his brow, and there’s too much blood running down his arm. His eyes crinkle with pain, but when I wrap my arms around his waist, he dips his head to whisper in my ear. “I love you, baby.”
Pushing up onto my toes, I seal my lips to his.
Home.
This man is my home. I break off the kiss, then pretend to lose my balance so I can pull him a single step away from Sutton.
Glass shatters, and over Doc’s shoulder, Sutton’s head caves in.
“Fuck!” Bastian shouts. He grabs me by the hair, dragging me away from Doc and pressing his KA-BAR to my throat.
“Natasha! No!” Doc strains against the rope, but he doesn’t have any leverage.
Bastian puts his back to one of the dryers between the room’s two windows, while Sapier crawls into the far corner and shoves a laundry cart away from a metal door.
The knife is so tight against my windpipe, I’m scared to swallow. Talking is out of the question.
“Who thefuckis shooting at us?” Doherty shouts. He and Collins are only steps away from Doc, guns drawn. If West doesn’t do something soon, they’ll shoot him. Bastian will slit my throat, and Sapier will get away.
The main door bangs open, and a round canister bounces into the room. “Fire in the hole,” West says over comms.
Light and sound explode all around us. Bastian slams me face first into the metal dryer. The pain consumes me. I can’t see. Can’t hear. Can’t move. Doc. Where is Doc?
Doc
The explosion deafens me, but Natasha turned me enough before it happened, squeezing my eyes shut let me keep most of my vision.
Collins stumbles only feet away from me, disoriented as fuck and waving a pistol around like a goddamn flag at a Formula 1 Race.
I grab on to the rope between my wrists, pull myself up, and scissor my legs around the man’s neck. His gun hits the floor. Locking my ankles together, I squeeze. He’s heavy as fuck. But there’s no way I’m letting go.
Collins weaves back and forth. He can’t take more than a step in any direction. He claws at my legs, desperate. But he’s getting weaker. Slower.
Through the hazy smoke, Doherty takes aim. A bullet whizzes by my ear. Too close. As he draws down on me again, I twist. The second shot hits Collins in the chest. He starts to wheeze. It’s a fatal wound, but I don’t care. I jerk my legs as hard as I can. His neck snaps with a satisfying crunch.
“Stay high, Doc!” Raelynn shouts. I drop Collins, swing my legs, and use my momentum to hook my feet around the water pipe. My ribs ache. The smoke burns my lungs. I can’t hold this position for long.
Half a dozen shots later, Doherty’s body is shredded. I drop back down. My arm throbs. I can’t see Natasha anymore.
Raelynn grabs her knife, snaps the flexi-cuffs, and shoves a comms unit into my ear. “Where’s Natasha?” I ask the second it beeps at me.
