I do what they tell me.
Crow and Reaper and the guys are outside. And I know exactly where.
I hope they are ready. Because it sounds like we’ve got a few other guys hot on our tails as well.
“Feel like taking another trip to New Haven?” Quinn asks after he pushes me into a stairwell. “It’ll be just like old times.”
“Fuck you.”
“Hear that, Duke?” he taunts. “Told you once wouldn’t be enough. She wants me.”
“I wouldn’t touch her with my dick again even if she begged for it,” Duke says. “But this one though…”
There’s a commotion beside us, and then a grunt before a body tumbles to the ground and down the stairs in front of us.
I can’t be certain if it’s Duke or Storm, but my money’s on Duke.
Everything breaks into chaos then. There is scuffling and shouting and Quinn is dragged away from me and ushered down the stairs. Someone from behind us takes his place, seizing my arm.
I jam one of the spikes on the back of my heel into his calf.
“Jesus fuuuuuuuuuuck,” he squeals.
The fight is on.
He grabs my hair and tries to shove me forward, and I slice him again with the other heel. He lets go and I reach for the knives in the back of my dress.
When he comes at me again, I start slicing, anywhere I can reach. There’s scuffling beside me, and I don’t know if it’s Storm or someone else. I only know that I have to get through this prick before I can find out.
The first knife lodges into his flesh, and my hand slips off the grip when he retreats. And then there’s the telltale sound of a gun cocking.
The lights flicker back on. Duke and Quinn are long gone, but their hired guys are still here. Storm is alive and well and holding her own just fine. She’s got one of them pinned down with a spiked stiletto aimed straight for his throat.
I would stop to enjoy the show if the other guy wasn’t pointing his loaded gun straight at my head.
The jig is up.
“Let her go,” I tell him. “And I’ll come willingly. I’m the one they want.”
“Who her?” he gestures at Storm.
And then he pulls the fucking trigger.
The stairwell is dead silent, and except for the ringing in my ears, I can’t hear anything as she grabs at her arm and stumbles backward into the wall.
There’s blood on her dress, but I can’t tell where she’s been hit.
I think I said her name, but I’m not sure.
I’m not sure of anything. My legs are trying to move, but my brain is paralyzed. Another guy comes up from the bottom of the stairwell and grabs her, jamming a gun to her head and dragging her backwards.
The door opens behind me, and I hear angels singing.
“Fuck,” Rory says. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m here, I’m here.”
Another shot. This one quieter.
I don’t register that it came from Rory’s weapon until the guy in front of me tumbles down the stairs.
