Page 88 of Rescued

It was exactly like his other office, in New York. Reeking of money and power that he didn’t really have. Quentin sat behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, while they were brought in to face him like kids sent to the principal’s office.

That had intimidated her, before. But after Thanatos and his hood, Quentin looked like an amateur.

“Hello, Quentin,” she said.

He smiled at her—an I’m-going-to-pull-the-wings-off-a-butterfly smile.

“Breanna.” He shook his head. “You foolish, foolish girl. I can’t believe you thought you could get away with this.”

She couldn’t believe she’d ever thought that men like him were her ticket anywhere, except to misery.

She heard Sanchez’s voice in her mind, this time. Stay alert. The pathetic ones are the most dangerous.

Quentin said, “You girls always knew who had the power. Who had the brains. You dressed up to get next to that, because you were never going to be it. You’ll always be at the mercy of someone more powerful than you are.”

No, she wasn’t. Switch and the wolves had shown her that she could be strong. And brave. That she could make a difference.

But Quentin was nattering on and on about his bruised ego. Good. The longer this took, the closer the backup team got.

“You turned on me,” he said. “You had the fucking nerve to think you’re smarter than me. That you could have what I have. Money. Power. Influence.”

He picked up the envelope off his desktop and pulled out the bonds. “You really thought you could get away with this? With taking my money?”

She didn’t answer, which seemed to piss him off. “You’re nothing,” he spat. “So you have one chance to save your sorry little life. Give me the passwords, and I’ll let you both go.”

Breanna wasn’t even listening anymore. She was scanning the room, the way Switch and Mikey had taught her. Looking for anything that could be used as a weapon.

Or, of course, actual weapons. Because there was a guard right next to her, wearing the same kind of combat gear the wolves did. Vests. Multiple ammo pockets. Sheath knives. Holsters.

Grenades.

Quentin was saying, “You can go back to being what you are. What you always were. What you always will be.”

Suddenly, the classical music coming through the music system cut off. A second later, Eddy Arnold’s voice blasted through the speakers.

“Roll on, little dogies, roll on, roll on…”

Switch was here. The pack had come for her.

Chapter 37

Breanna turned and lunged towards the guard. He reflexively grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in, preparing to pin her arms and immobilize her.

She blocked with her forearms, dropped to one knee, and slammed him in the balls as hard as she could. Thank you, Sanchez.

As he crumpled, she pulled two grenades off his tactical vest. Then she took off out the door, heading for the sound of battle—and wolves howling.

She could tell from the direction of the sounds—mostly below her—that she wasn’t on the ground floor. She passed an elevator, doors open. Breanna almost ducked inside before remembering her lessons—a closed box was a death trap.

She pulled the pin on one of her grenades, and threw it in. Then she ran for the stairs while the explosion shook the building, almost making her lose her footing.

That was one exit her pursuers couldn’t use.

Breanna slammed through the stairwell door and began running down the stairs. According to the signs on the wall, she was on Floor 3. She passed by Floor 2 and headed straight for the ground floor. She could already hear troops on the stairs above her.

At the bottom of the stairs, she stopped for a second. No sounds on the other side of the stairwell door, just distant gunfire. She’d have to risk going out blind. Those guys behind her were already on the second floor.

She opened the door, pulled the pin on the second grenade, flung it under the stairs, and ran for it, diving to get as far away as she could.