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His breathing had steadied. I lay there, cocooned in his heat, my eyes fluttering shut. Sleep clung to me, heavy and sweet, pulling me down into its depths.
"Sleep, Ella," he murmured. The words were soft, but they carried the weight of command, the unspoken promise of protection. I drifted off, safe in the darkness that Chris wrapped around us.
He was a statue when I stirred, muscles tense. His hand moved swiftly, decisively—a sharp crack fractured the silence as he snapped his cell phone in two. Pieces of tech skittered across the cheap laminate floor. I watched through half-lidded eyes, feigning sleep, as he dug deep into his pocket and retrieved another phone. It was the kind of phone that didn't hold family photos or love messages; it was a bearer of secrets, of orders that came from the shadows.
"Adam," he said quietly before he paused to listen.
"Make it quick," he said, his other hand raking through his hair, agitation rolling off him in waves.
"Get rid of it," he commanded. "Now. Use the burner. I'll be in touch."
The urgency laced through his words sent a shiver down my spine. Whatever peace we'd found was fleeting. He glanced at me, checking if I was still asleep.
"Understood," he clipped out before snapping the phone shut. He stood motionless for a moment.
"Shit," he muttered, his silhouette a jagged line against the faded motel curtains. His hand reached out to trace mine before he sighed. "Shit is about to get real."
My heart hammered a frantic beat against the silence of the room. We were in the eye of the storm, and it was about to break.
Fifteen: Chris
The dim light flickered above, casting shadows across the shabby room where Ella sat hunched over a magazine. Her brow furrowed in concentration. I leaned against the door frame, watching her for a moment—fuck, she was something else.
"Adam gave me the heads-up last night," I began, my voice a low rasp. The words felt like sand tumbling from my mouth. "Priscilla now knows we've skipped town. She's got her dogs on our scent."
Ella's head snapped up, those brown eyes of hers wide with fear. My gut twisted. I'd dragged her into this shitstorm.
"Chris, what are we going to—" Her voice was cut by a loud knock, rattling the flimsy door on its hinges.
"Fuck." The single word was a snarl, ripped from deep within my chest. Every muscle tensed, ready for the onslaught I knew was coming. We were out of fucking time.
Grabbing my knife one hand, I raised my fists. I stepped closer to the door, ready to die, as another knock hammered through the room.
The door splintered in a burst of cheap wood, the locks useless against the brute force that threw it open. Two hulking guards barreled into the room like storming bulls, tailored suits straining over muscles.
"Get behind me," I snarled to Ella, voice low, guttural. She scrambled back, her wide eyes locked onto mine for a fleeting second, a silent plea echoing in that gaze.
"Come on then, you fucks," I spat, stepping forward, arms outstretched, ready to take them on. Every nerve alight, every sinew tightened. This was my goddamn arena. This is why no one fucked with me. I didn't use guns, guns were for pussies. No, the slice of a well sharpened blade brought the satisfaction of the kill.
"Chris, be careful!" Damn right I'd be careful—careful to end these bastards before they touched a single blonde hair on her head.
"Shut it, princess," one guard snarled. "Boss wants a word. Come with us, and bring the girl, and we won't have to kill ya both.”
"Through my dead body," I shot back, defiance hot on my tongue. The room reeked of sweat and threat, the air crackling with the promise of pain.
"Works for us." A grin spread across the other's face, twisted around the scar that marred his skin.
"Come get some," I challenged, fists hungry for the taste of blood.
They surged at me, all bulk and brawn, but I stood my ground. These goons had muscle, sure, but I had rage—an inferno roaring inside my chest, ready to incinerate anything between me and freedom.
"Oh my God!" Ella's voice was panicked as she watched. Couldn't let it distract me. Had to focus. Be the fucking hurricane I was.
"Stay down!" I commanded, my attention snapping back to the two brutes now splitting up, trying to flank me.
"Take him!" the first barked, and I braced myself, the air thick with the stench of the fight to come. My vision tunneled as I anticipated their next move.
"Bring it, assholes," I taunted, coiled tight and ready to strike. Let them come. I'd tear through their flesh, rip apart their sinews. For her.
