I barely heard the vulgar things he called me as he lunged, and I thrusted the blade up. He made a small noise of surprise and attempted to dodge, but he wasn’t fast enough. The blade sankinto his side. I had been aiming for his gut, but at least I’d hit him.
There was a suspended moment where neither of us moved, both staring at the knife buried in Amos’s side. Then a blinding pain erupted across the side of my face as he punched me, making me let go of the weapon.
“You fucking whore!” he seethed.
I collapsed backward, blinking hard as the throbbing pain exploded in my cheekbone. Dizziness washed over me, but I was vaguely aware of Amos muttering and panting.
A high, shrill beeping noise cut through my stunned haze. I forced myself to focus through the pain. The knife was still in Amos’s side; he had one hand steadying the hilt while the other fumbled for his phone that had landed on the floor. It was the phone making the noise. Amos snatched it up and stared at the screen. He went paler. Sweat glistened on his brow.
Something shifted in him. I wasn’t sure whether it was the knife inside him or whatever he saw on his phone, but he cursed again.
His head snapped up toward the dirty windows along the back wall, his eyes blowing wide. For a second, I wasn’t sure whether I was hallucinating as black-clothed figures moved outside them. They were like shadows, and I frowned, trying to make sense of what was going on.
A hand grabbed me by the hair, yanking hard. Sharp pain burst over my scalp.
I cried out as Amos dragged me toward him, crashing me against his chest. There was a glint of something—another knife? Or maybe it was the same one. Everything moved so fast I could barely see. The rope connecting my wrists and ankles was cut, and Amos yanked me to my feet just as the back windows exploded.
Glass shattered, sparkling shards raining down inside the office.
Men in black tactical gear ran through the windows, but Amos was already pulling me back toward the door, holding a knife to my neck. A bloody knife. So it was the same one.
He used my body as a shield, backing us out of the office onto the metal catwalk outside of it. Heat from the flames eating their way through the dilapidated factory pressed in on us. I choked on the smoke, squinting at the men in black advancing on us.
My heart soared as my mind finally caught up.
The security team.August’ssecurity team.
How had they gotten here?
They had guns trained in our direction, but it barely fazed me. They were here to help.
Amos kept moving, dragging me farther out onto the catwalk. The knife dug into my skin, right under my jaw.
“It’s over, Anderson.”
I knew that calm voice in my very bones. Could identify it in my sleep. Relief crashed through me so fiercely that my legs would’ve buckled if Amos hadn’t locked his arm around my waist, using my body as a shield.
My head snapped to the right, and there he was. Roman stood on the catwalk, Fox and Graham behind him, blocking the stairs down to the first level. Amos muttered profanities in my ear and started to edge us away from Roman, but then he stopped.
“You’re surrounded, Amos,” another voice said.
I turned my head to find August on the other side of the narrow walkway, gun raised and aimed right at the man holding me hostage.
Amos stilled. I could feel his chest rising and falling at my back—I felt something else too, warm and wet soaking into my shirt beneath his grip. Blood. He had to be bleeding from where I’d stabbed him.
Amos pulled me tighter to his chest, dug the knife in harder against my throat. I hissed at the sting of the blade. Amos backed us up as the security team advanced from the office in front of us. We retreated until the railing of the catwalk stopped us. At the edges of my vision, I saw flames starting to encroach on the rusted machinery below.
“Stay back,” Amos commanded. His voice was surprisingly steady, but the hand holding the knife began to shake.
“Let her go!” Roman snapped.
His face was a mask of rage, but I was relieved. Roman was alive.
Amos’s breathing turned rapid, his breath hot and ragged in my ear. He was so close, there wasn’t any space between us. Everyone around us inched forward, closing in from all sides. He pressed harder against the railing, but there was nowhere to go but fall into the pit of burning machines below.
“You can’t win,” August said, his voice low and certain.
Amos growled under his breath like a rabid animal.
