“Hold still, Ava.”
Those eyes and that voice knock the fight right out of me. I comply, muscles going rigid as he works at the cuff around my ankle with some sort of tool, metal scraping against metal. There’s a sharp click, then the band snaps open and drops away, clattering against the floor.
I stare down at it for a long moment, nausea curling in my gut. Then Drew surges to his feet and grabs ahold of my wrist.
“Time to go.”
I don’t ask questions. There’s no time. He’s already dragging me out into the corridor, which is just as dark as my room exceptfor the violent pulses of red from the emergency strobes lining the ceiling. The alarm is even louder out here, a piercing wail that echoes through the cavernous hallway.
My bare feet slap against the cold floor as he hauls me along, my heart beating faster with every step. I half expect Natalia or one of the guards to appear out of nowhere and block our path, but Drew moves with absolute certainty– fast, efficient, never hesitating, always one step ahead as he drags me deeper into the chaos.
He shoulders open a door at the end of the hall and pulls me through it, barely slowing as I struggle to keep up. My bare feet skid against the floor clumsily, but he doesn’t let go. My heart is pounding so hard that it’s all I can hear, even over the wail of the alarm.
We pass through two more doors before emerging into a concrete stairwell, and only then does he pause.
There’s a girl waiting on the landing, hands braced on the railing. She’s wearing the same white Dollhouse loungewear I am, but she doesn’t look half as scared.
She looks…fierce.
Her blonde hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, loose strands sticking to tan skin flushed from exertion. Her blue eyes are sharp and alert, scanning the stairwell like she’s expecting trouble to come charging through the doors at any second. She’s curvier than me, built softer through the hips and chest, but there’s nothing soft about the way she carries herself. She stands solid and confident, like someone who knows exactly who she is and is completely unapologetic about it.
Drew stops short and releases my arm. “This is as far as I go.”
The girl pushes off the railing and strides toward us, the corner of her mouth quirking upward.
“Ready to bust outta here?” she asks mischievously.
Drew jerks his chin toward her. “Bailey will get you the rest of the way, gorgeous. Tell my brother he owes me.” He throws me a wink, the smirk on his face so much like Ford’s it makes my chest ache.
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.
Bailey bats her lashes at Drew and blows him a kiss. He reacts instantly, lunging forward to hook a hand behind her neck and drag her into a kiss so hard she rises up onto her tiptoes. She laughs softly against his mouth before shoving him away, leveling him with a stern look as she points a finger at his chest.
“Don’t die.”
Drew chuckles under his breath, already backing away toward the door we entered through. “Never.” He turns and yanks it open, disappearing into the dark, the heavy door closing behind him with a soft thud.
Bailey’s gaze stays fixed on the door for a long moment, something like worry flickering across her face before she smooths the expression away. When she looks back at me, her sharp blue eyes rake over me quickly, taking in the panic I’m doing a terrible job at hiding.
“You good?” she asks, arching a brow.
I have no idea, but I nod anyway, the movement more of a reflex than an answer.
“Come on,” she breathes, grabbing my hand and tugging me after her.
She takes the stairs two at a time, hauling me up at a pace that leaves me gasping. My lungs burn as we climb, but she never slows, navigating like she knows this building by heart, never hesitating at the landings. I’m ridiculously winded by the third flight, my legs shaking, but adrenaline shoves me onward.
She finally skids to a stop at the top of the stairwell in front of a fire door and pounds a rapid, coded knock– three heavy thuds, then two lighter taps.
The door swings open almost instantly, and my heart leaps into my throat as a man steps through.
He’s massive– buzzed head, thick shoulders stretching the seams of his jacket, and a scar cutting across one cheek like someone once tried to carve him open. Handsome, but undeniably rugged. The kind of face that’s seen a thousand bar fights and won most of them.
I must look like a deer in the headlights, because Bailey sets a reassuring hand on my shoulder, introducing him. “This is Miller,” she says as he silently hands her a black duffel. “He’s with us.”
I nod stiffly as she unzips the bag and pulls out a bundle of dark clothes, shoving them at my chest. “Breathe, girl,” she murmurs, holding my gaze. “You’re almost out.”
I swallow thickly, clutching the clothes to my chest as she digs back into the duffel and pulls out another set for herself. Then she yanks her white t-shirt off over her head without a hint of shame. Her blonde ponytail swings loose as the fabric comes off, revealing a body that’s all bold curves– full chest, narrow waist, strong thighs. She’s strikingly beautiful in a way that feels almost unfair, like someone sculpted her to be impossible to ignore.
