Every alarm in my body went off.
“Hey!” I barked, my voice bouncing off the walls. “Get the hell away from that door.”
Dylan was right beside me, already picking up speed. “Step back, man!”
The guy turned, his eyes sharp, and appeared neither startled nor guilty, not anything I expected. He lifted one hand, palm out, as if stopping traffic.“Stop,” he ordered.
That didn’t work for either of us.
Dylan took another step. “Who are you?”
The guy reached into his pocket and flashed something so fast it barely registered. Gold. Official. A badge. “Secret Service.”
Dylan’s face hardened. “Why are you here?”
“There’s a threat inside,” he replied, his eyes already back on the door. “Key. Open it.”
My stomach dropped. “Is it Callum?”
“I don’t know,” he answered immediately, as if he didn’t have time for anything else. “Now open the door.”
Dylan swiped the keycard that was still in his hand. The lock clicked, the door cracked open an inch, then stopped dead.
“The latch is on,” Dylan snapped, shoving the door.
It didn’t budge.
He hit it again with the heel of his hand, then leaned his shoulder into it as if he could bully the door into moving. The latch held.
The agent stepped in front of the crack, blocking it with his body. “Back up.”
Dylan’s head whipped around toward him. “No. We need to get in there.”
“You don’t know where she is on the other side,” the agent shot back. “Back up.”
My chest felt too tight to breathe. “What do we do?”
“We get help here now,” the agent replied. “Call 911 and hotel security.”
Dylan’s gaze flicked toward the elevators. “There’s a phone right there.”
“Use it,” the agent ordered. “Tell them we need security up here now for an assault in progress.”
Dylan didn’t hesitate. He spun and sprinted to the phone across from the elevator doors, yanked the receiver off the hook, and punched the buttons.
I pulled my phone out, my hands shaking, and dialed 911.
My call connected. “Um, yes, we’re at Aria Sky Suites,” I managed to say. “A guy broke into my hotel room and he’s in there with my girlfriend, and we can’t get inside. The door is latched from the inside, and we need help now.”
The dispatcher started asking questions, and I answered on autopilot, eyes locked on the door like staring could help.
A muffled scream cut through the door. “Get off of me!”
My body went rigid. “Faye!”
Dylan lurched away from the phone, taking two steps back toward the door, and the agent stopped him with one arm without even looking.
“Stay back,” the agent ordered again.
