There’s nothing to give me away.
I move to the corner of the building, my nerves steady now that the time is almost here. I’m going to sneak along the edge until I’m close to the guard. And then, before he has a chance to react, I’m going to choke the motherfucker out.
My footsteps are quiet, my senses predator sharp. I thought I might be rusty after so many years of dealing with the business side, but it turns out these instincts never fade.
Or maybe it’s my Lena, her plight instilling fresh fierceness in me.
I pause as close to the guard as I’m willing to get. Then, staying low, I study him as he tosses his cigarette butt and lights another. He doesn’t look ready for a fight, but that doesn’t mean he won’t react when the shit goes down.
Maybe he’ll grab his gun and start firing widely.
“Fuck.”
He drops his cigarette and bends over to pick it up.
I don’t hesitate.
Running as fast as I can, I throw my body at him and tackle him to the ground. He yells and rolls over, trying to grab hold of me. But I’ve fought too many times to panic now.
It was done the second I got him down.
I flip him over, burying him with my bulk, and then wrap my arms around his neck. He struggles and gasps as I compress his airwaves tighter and tighter.
My muscles expand as if filling with all my possessive protective impulses, as though engorged with my need to keep Lena safe.
When I feel him pass out, I let go of the hold. His breathing has slowed, and his eyes have closed, but knocking somebody out isn’t like the movies. He’ll be awake in a few seconds.
I move fast.
Taking items from my other pocket, I go to work. I stuff a gag in his mouth and zip tie his hands behind his back. He wakes as I’m dragging him out of view, moaning and flopping around.
I say nothing, knowing I can’t risk them recognizing my voice.
I secure him to a metal drain with another zip tie and then shake it, making sure he’s solidly fixed in place.
He struggles and grumbles, but there’s nothing he can do now.
I sneak to the glass doors but they are secured tightly with chains.
They hold. There’s no way for me to pry them loose.
Biting down as fresh nerves touch me, my body pumping with adrenalin, I knock lightly. Then, when there’s no answer, I do it louder.
What if she’s asleep? What if she doesn’t hear?
I’ll have to smash the window, alerting the other guards. I’ve got no doubt there are more in the hallway outside her room, and I know Conor is here somewhere.
“What?”
Her tone is sharp, not at all like it was in the studio. But even so, her voice is so welcome, washing through me like rushing flames, burning away all the indecision and confusion.
When I hear her voice, I know I was never going to let Conor touch her.
I know I would die, kill, and tear the whole city apart before I allowed that to happen.
“Have you decided not to be an asshole?”
She appears at the window, her dog cradled in her arms, gasping when she sees me.
“Who are you?”
I hold my fingers to my lips, nodding, hoping she gets the message.
Lowering her voice, she says, “Okay, I get it. I won’t freak.”
I look over my shoulder, making sure nobody is watching, then pull my mask off.
I expect her to smile for her face to light up the same way it did in the office. I expect her to unlock the window immediately. Surely she knows I’m here to save her.
Instead, her tone becomes vicious, and her face twists.
“Luca?”
No, fuck.
She said my name.
“What are you doing here?”
“Be quiet,” I snap, keeping my voice as low as possible. “I’m here to save you. I told you, I’d never let him hurt –.”
The door behind her crashes open. Two men rush into the room, both of them guards, both of them going for their hips.
They are going for their guns.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Everything happens on autopilot. The protective beast inside of me takes over.
I smash the glass in the window, not caring when it bites painfully into my fists. Thankfully, Lena leaps out of the way, turning her back to protect her dog.
The glass cuts into my side as I push through the gap, grunting as I roll over and then spring to my feet.
The men have their guns out now, but so do I.
I shoot.
The first man roars as the bullet bites into his leg.
Sounding far away, the dog starts barking, but I can’t think about that.
A bullet cuts over my head, missing me by inches and slamming into the wall.
I grab the first man and throw him at the second, roaring as they collide, and then I leap on them both, hammering with my fists, lost to the white-hot rage, the need to survive and keep my family safe.