A few moments later, the door flew open, and Faye shot into the hallway, moving so fast she didn’t lift her eyes until she collided with the agent and bounced back, her breath torn from her. Her hands came up, and she swung, wild and desperate, trying to get past him and out of the room. “Let me go!”
The agent blocked her without grabbing and wedged his body into the doorway to stop the door from closing automatically. “Faye. I’m Secret Service. Where is he?”
She tried to shove past his arm, her eyes flicking back toward the suite as if she expected Callum to be right there.
Dylan stepped into her line of sight, his voice cutting through the panic. “Princess. It’s D. Look at me.”
I moved in on the other side of her and kept my hands visible. “Faye, it’s Jase. This man isn’t Callum.”
The agent didn’t argue with her. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his credentials. “Secret Service,” he repeated, then tucked them away. “Behind me. Now. Where’s the guy?”
Faye swallowed, her eyes glassy. “Inside the bedroom.”
The bedroom? I didn’t want to imagine why he’d want her in the bedroom. If I did, Callum might not walk out of there alive.
“Does he have a weapon?” he pressed.
“Knife,” she rasped. “I hit him with the lamp and ran.”
The agent shifted his stance, then looked back at us for the first time. “Keep her behind you. Don’t let her get near that door.”
The fight drained from her and her knees buckled.
Dylan wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve got you.”
Faye clutched him, shaking hard, then reached for my hand without looking as the agent stepped into the room. The door clicked shut, leaving the three of us alone in the hall.
I took her hand and squeezed. “We’re here, Princess.”
Relief hit so hard it felt like my lungs had unlocked. She was safe. She was breathing. Then my attention snapped back to the suite’s door because he was still inside.
A shout cut through from inside the room. “On the ground. Hands behind your back.”
Faye flinched as if the words had hit her.
I kept my voice steady, even as my chest felt like it was caving in. “Faye, keep your eyes here. He’s not getting to you.”
A soft chime came from the service elevator farther down the hall, and the doors slid open. Two hotel security guards stepped out quickly, radios in hand, eyes already scanning the corridor.
One of them spoke quickly. “Everything okay?”
“No.” I shook my head. “This is the president’s daughter. Secret Service is in the room, getting the guy.”
The other guard glanced at Faye, then caught Dylan’s expression and backed off without pushing. “Understood.”
The main elevator dinged, and two uniformed officers stepped out, scanning the corridor as they moved.
“Vegas Metro,” one called. “Which room?”
I lifted my hand toward ours. “That one.”
The second officer’s eyes flicked to Faye, then snapped back to the door. “What’s going on?”
Before I could answer, our suite door opened.
The agent stepped out with a handcuffed Callum in his grip. Callum’s shirt was twisted, and blood was running down the side of his head.
Faye gasped against Dylan’s chest, and her fingers tightened on my hand so hard it hurt. Dylan shifted, keeping her tucked in close.
