And they're filled with nothing but genuine horror.
No.
I move faster, trying to wipe away everything that exists between me and her.
All I can see is Keira's face. Calder's hand. The distance between us that won't fucking close fast enough.
Two guards stop in front of me.
Calder's men. He positioned them, knowing exactly when to spring the trap.
He knows.
"We need you to come with us." The first one plants himself in front of me like a wall.
"Get out of my way."
"Mr. Calder's orders." The second guard flanks me, boxing me in. "There's a situation that requires your attention."
Behind them, I watch Calder guide Keira toward the service stairs. She glances over her shoulder one last time, searching for me, and the fear in her is indescribable.
Then she's gone.
With that finality, I shut everything out inside me, feeling the quiet settle in.
"I said." I grab the first guard by the throat and lift. His feet leave the ground and his eyes bulge. "Get. Out. Of. My. Way."
He claws at my hand, choking. The second guard reaches for his weapon. I drop the first one and catch the second's wrist before he can clear the holster. One sharp twist and he screams, the sound buried by pounding music.
I step over their bodies and break into a run.
"Calder took Keira below deck."
"I'm coming," Dom says.
The stairwell spirals downward into the belly of the yacht. Emergency lighting paints everything in shades of arterial red, like descending into something's throat. My footsteps echo off metal. My heartbeat pounds in my ears.
Where did he take her?
Is Hale down here too?
How long has he known?
The questions don't matter. Not right now.
A guard sees me coming at the bottom of the stairs and reaches for his radio.
I hit him before he can key the mic. Elbow to the temple, and he goes limp, dropping like a fly.
There's another set of stairs to my left and a long hallway to my right.
I don't know where Calder fucking went.
"Lower deck. Service platform." Cat's in my ears.
I fly down the spiral staircase, too focused on finding Keira to check for a guard—and there is one at the bottom. This one is faster.
He manages to fire a shot, which sparks against the wall inches from my head. I close the distance before he can fire again, driving my knee into his stomach and following with a right hook that sends teeth scattering across the floor.
