Ipull against the guards’ hold as they try to drag me out of the conference room. I fucked up. I let her get the best of me, and if this door closes behind me, I’ll never get another chance to get my hands on her. Because if she digs for answers, if she pushes just hard enough . . . fuck.
My world would crumble.
My head spins with more questions than she came here with. Surely she knew I wasn’t about to sit down and swap war stories with her. Is she fucking delusional? But what’s really troubling me is the fucking act.
Aria Ashford is a fraud.
That woman has been at the top of my kill list for seven long fucking years. Her betrayals go far beyond anything that could ever be forgiven, and she has the nerve to show her face here? To parade that fine ass around me, pretending she doesn’t have agoddamn clue what’s going on while asking me questions aboutthatnight?
What kind of angle is she working? And why the fuck is she here?
A blaring alarm sounds through the prison, cutting off any and all thoughts streaming through my mind, and the door in front of me slams closed. The deadbolts automatically slide into place with a loud bang, locking me in the conference room with four guards, two morons, a soon-to-be-dead boss, and Aria fucking Ashford.
Lockdown.
It’s like poetic justice. No timing could ever be so perfect, and that right there is karma. When you resist killing people, the world offers its thanks, and who am I to deny a gift horse as it’s staring me in the face?
A grin pulls at the corner of my lips as I slowly turn to look at the woman who has done nothing but drive me insane for the past forty-five minutes, her face draining of all color.
“Sit your ass down,” Jensen bites, one hand on his gun as all four of the guards watch me closely, waiting for me to make the move they know is bound to come.
“Security breach in C-block. All available officers respond immediately. Repeat, security breach in C-block. All officers respond,” a voice roars across the guards’ radios. “Door malfunction on all C-block cells. Repeat, all cells are open, proceed with caution.”
Aria’s gasp fills the air as Rourke grunts. “Fuck.”
As for me, I can’t help the laugh that tears from the back of my throat. “It seems this interview wasn’t a complete waste after all.”
“Make one fucking move, and I’ll put a bullet through your brain,” Jensen spits, and I don’t doubt that he’d try. The only problem is that he couldn’t reach for his gun quicker than I couldsnap his worthless neck, and he damn well knows it. I won’t lie, I almost feel bad that I’m going to have to kill Rourke. Perhaps I could just knock him out for a while.
Loud clangs of metal doors boom through the hallways, followed by the sound of irate inmates. Seconds later, a rustling comes through the radios. “THREE OFFICERS DOWN ON C-BLOCK. RIOT IN PROGRESS. IMMEDIATE RESPONSE REQUIRED. WE’RE OUTNUMBERED.”
“FUCK!” Rourke barks, crossing behind me and grabbing the door, trying to force it open without luck.
“Sorry, man,” I grunt, reaching up just enough to get my elbow over his head before squeezing tight around the base of his throat. His hands grip my forearm, attempting to loosen my hold, but I grab the gun at his hip with my free hand, and he stops struggling. I back us right up into the corner of the room, allowing space for only one guard to shoot at a time, and unfortunately for Jensen, he drew the short straw.
“DON’T DO ANYTHING STUPID!” Jensen roars, hesitating with his gun.
“Too late for that,” I tell him just as I pull the trigger and get a clean shot between the eyes, even with my hands bound down by my waist. Pretty good considering I haven’t touched a gun in seven years.
Aria screams while her boss looks as though he’s about to shit himself. I keep my focus on the other two guards, letting off another shot at Oakley and taking him down.
Rourke struggles in my hold, quickly running out of oxygen as the sound of rioting inmates grows louder. The moment they realize there’s a woman in here, it’s going to be a fucking shitshow.
But they won’t get their hands on her, not if I have anything to do with it, and it’s not because of some bullshit need to protecther. Far from it. It’s because if anybody is going to kill this woman, it’s going to be me.
The last guard comes at me, his gun already aimed at my chest, but with the very real threat of hitting Rourke, he hesitates as well, giving me the time I need. I squeeze the trigger again, only to find the chamber empty. Without skipping a beat, I throw my arms apart, snap straight through the shitty cuffs, and use the butt of the gun to knock him unconscious. In the same moment, Rourke’s body falls heavily to the ground.
They’ll both live, assuming the other inmates don’t get to them after I’m gone. As for Jensen and Oakley, I can’t say the same. Jensen had it coming, though. Nobody is going to mourn that fucker.
Gunshots sound from deeper within the prison as men flood past the conference rooms, some stopping to peer inside at the pretty girl cowering in the corner.
“This is some good shit,” the dude behind the camera says. “I’ll make a killing on this if I somehow survive it. Keep it going. Do your fucking worst.”
“RETREAT! RETREAT!” a voice cries through the radio as I bend down and take it off Jensen’s duty belt. Then I snatch the master keys too. I mean, when in Rome, right? If an opportunity is going to stare me in the face, who am I to deny it? Again, karma and all that shit.
This is the chance I’ve been waiting for these past seven years.
Let’s face the facts, Charles Wentworth doesn’t stand a chance in getting me out of here, especially not after taking out two prison guards, and most likely the three morons Aria brought with her today as well. The judicial system isn’t going to bow in my favor, so it’s up to me. If I want to be a free man to settle the scores I left behind, then I have to do it on my own.
