by Nikki Chase
Yes, I still have guards patrolling the perimeter, but they're useless if their movements are predictable.
My strength can be my downfall sometimes. I always insist on things being done a certain way at certain times, and that makes it easy for them to figure us out.
My best guess? They've been watching us for weeks or even months, and they know our routines by now. They know what times the guards change shift. They know what time I usually have breakfast and where. They probably even know what time Anthony takes his smoke break.
I'm lucky enough to not have sat in my usual spot for breakfast. I guess I have Alice to thank for that. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t have spotted the guy.
He’s been acting like a gardener, mowing the lawn and pruning the bushes, but I thought he was looking this way too often. And then I saw him reaching into his jacket, touching something metallic that glinted in the sunlight.
A gun.
That fucker must know someone on the inside. Someone must’ve gotten him in, which means I’ll have to purge my staff again. It’s my least favorite thing to do—not just because it’s a pain in the ass that takes up a lot of time and effort, but mostly because I hate being reminded that it’s probably not a good idea to hire people whose pasts are tied to my enemies.
Yes, the enemies of my enemies are my friends. But what if my original enemies still hold some kind of power over my supposed friends and can make them do basically anything they want?
I lean in toward Alice, pulling her into my arms. I’m going to have to move fast, or this reckless plan just won’t work.
If I pull this off, we’ll both get to live to see another day. Otherwise, we’ll both be corpses within minutes.
“Seth, what’s wrong?” Alice asks.
I want to look into her eyes and lie to her, tell her everything’s going to be okay, but I can’t guarantee that. And I can’t take my focus off the guy who’s trying to kill us.
“Just follow my lead,” I say finally.
I’ll protect her with everything I’ve got, even if I have to give up my life to do that. I was the one who got her into this mess, after all. And I don’t think my life is all that great anyway, that I have to keep going at any cost. There are people who can continue my work if I can’t go on.
If I fail, if she gets shot and dies, I hope for two things. I hope she goes quickly and painlessly. And I hope I die with her, so I won’t have to live with the guilt.
Okay. It’s go time.
In one smooth, practiced move, I pull out my handgun from the holster inside my waistband. At the same time, I hold Alice with my free hand and drop us both down on the floor. When we fall, she gasps in surprise and grunts in pain. I try to minimize the impact of her body hitting the floor, but that kind of detail is hard to get right in a situation like this.
By the time I point my gun at the intruder, he has already started shooting. I hear the loud bang of his gun. The first bullet hits the dining table, making the wood explode and splinter.
I shoot back, but I miss.
I roll Alice down until she’s lying flat on the floor and cover her with my body. If the guy shoots, he’ll get me instead of her. This awkward position means there’s a higher risk of me getting shot, because I can’t move to a safer spot while protecting Alice.
He shoots again, and this time the bullet ricochets off the hard stone floor. We’re not hurt, but it’s only a matter of time now. We’re completely vulnerable. Even though we’re both on the floor, the big window gives him a clear sight of us.
I can see him clearly, too, but I can’t move as quickly, with Alice right under my body.
I just hope that the loud gunshots will alert my guards and I’ll soon have backup.
That will only work if my guards haven’t all switched sides, though. Obviously I have at least one double-crosser in the house. Who’s to say they’re not all compromised?
I decide to pay no attention to the shots he’s firing. It’s not like I can go anywhere to avoid them anyway; not without getting up and taking a bigger risk of getting shot.
Instead, I concentrate on getting a bullet lodged inside that motherfucker’s guts. I squint and squeeze the trigger. I watch and smile as he screams. His blood spreads, staining one leg of his pants red.
Then, another shot right at his hand, and he drops his gun. I didn’t fire this shot, though. I can’t get a shot that accurate from my position.
Through the window, I see Anthony and a couple other guys rush in. They grab the gun that the intruder has dropped on the grass and pull his hands back behind him, forcing his shoulders to bend back awkwardly. I hope it hurts.
“Are you okay?” I ask Alice.
She nods, but she doesn’t say anything. Poor thing, she’s shaking.
“It’s okay now. You’re safe.” I hear footsteps and look up to see Alejandra and Ana running into the dining room to see what the commotion is all about. I stroke Alice’s hair and stare straight into her blue eyes. “You’re safe now. Take a seat. Alejandra and Ana will take care of you.”
I get up. The window is all fucked up now. There’s a big hole where the glass used to be. I step through the window to get outside. It feels strange, but it’s not a feeling I can dwell on right now.
Fueled by fury and adrenaline, I charge toward the guy, who’s now kneeling on the grass, wincing in pain as blood continues to flow from his hand and thigh. Red-hot anger burns inside me, inciting me to put more holes in his body.
He fucking tried to kill Alice and me. Motherfucker deserves to die.
I knee him in the gut and watch his body contort in pain. His high-pitched wail sounds like music to my ears.
“Did you find out who let him in yet?” I ask my guards.
“It can only be one guy,” Anthony says without meeting my eyes.
Having worked with all my security team, day in and day out, he always feels responsible when something like this happens, even though I know he’s doing his best to cover all the holes in our security. At the same time, he still feels some kind of bond with these men and he takes it hard when one of them betrays him.
With a heavy sigh, Anthony says, “Ian. He must’ve been the one who let this guy in.”
I nod, keeping my eyes on the intruder. I can’t believe we almost died at the hands of this loser.
“He’s a good kid, Seth,” Anthony says. “But he still has family back home. Walter’s guys probably got ahold of his family and tortured them.”
I nod again. I already figured that out on my own. It’s the same old story, every single time.
It’s a tough situation, for sure. On one hand, Ian has betrayed us all, putting everyone in danger. On the other hand, if someone puts a gun to your father’s head and strips your sister naked, wouldn’t you do anything to save them?
I can’t put the entire blame on him. In a way, it’s my fault for not vetting my staff better. This is why I don’t like taking in guys whose families are still within reach of Walter’s crew. But sometimes, I make exceptions.
I know Ian. I like the kid. That’s why I hired him. But he can’t stay now. And I need to get rid of everyone who still has family back in their home country. I’d be putting everyone else in danger otherwise.
My body jolts when someone touches my chest. With all the tension in the air, I’m more jumpy than usual.
It’s Alice. She seems to have recovered from the shock. Now, she’s standing on the grass in front of me, pulling my suit jacket open by the lapels. She looks up at me with concern in her big doe eyes.
“You’re hurt,” she says.
I look down. There’s a red patch on my side and it grows bigger as the blood spreads.
I frown. That can’t be right. I don’t even feel any pain.
“I’ll call the doctor,” Anthony says. His voice sounds urgent.
I want to tell him to chill, but I see it too, even if the pain doesn’t register. I’ve been shot.
Alice
Pulling the blanket Ana has draped around my shoulders, I step outside onto the grass. My heart is hammering so hard against my rib cage it’s making my whole body shake.
When Seth was lying on top of me, shielding me from the bullets flying around us, I thought his body jolted at some point, and I was worried that he’d gotten shot.
But he didn’t look like he was in pain when he stood up. He even had the strength to knee the gunman so hard the guy crouched in fetal position afterward.
Still, I have to make sure.
I open Seth’s jacket. It’s just as I feared. I look up at him.
“You’re hurt,” I say softly, as if I’m afraid speaking louder could make the wound worse.
He frowns, looking at the blood spreading on his shirt with confusion. By the look on his face, you’d think he has just received some mildly annoying news, like he has just found out his favorite suit is at the laundry when he wants to wear it.
“I’ll call the doctor,” Anthony says.
Seth continues to stare at his wound wordlessly. I’ve heard about people not feeling pain right after an accident; I think I saw it on some documentary. Apparently, adrenaline blocks the pain so you can fight whatever danger you’re facing or run away.
I rub Seth’s upper arm, hoping it can bring him some measure of comfort, even if it’s just a little bit.
I’m grateful for what he just did, throwing himself on me to protect me. It could’ve been me who got shot. I could’ve died.
I keep my gaze on his face. Seth’s shirt, usually so crisp and clean, looks strange with the bullet hole in it, not to mention the blood. It makes my stomach churn. I can almost feel the lox and the cream cheese trying to crawl back up my throat. I look away, afraid the sight would make me throw up.
Without me there, Seth would’ve had better chances of evading the guy’s shots. He could’ve incapacitated the guy in no time.
I didn’t believe Seth’s story before this. But how could I deny that I’m in danger and he’s trying to protect me, after what has just happened? He literally risked his life to protect me, to keep me safe and alive. Everything is just like he has always claimed.
I still have no idea why someone would be after me, but there’s no doubt now that it’s true. Maybe Seth really is just a good guy who’s trying to help me. Maybe the bad guys don’t need a good reason to kidnap girls. Maybe Seth really can’t tell me anything because knowing too much would put me in even more danger.
I had my doubts, but why can’t all those things be true? He saved Ana, didn’t he?
While Anthony is gone to get the doctor, the other two guys take over. They slide the suit jacket completely off Seth’s body to take a closer look at the wound. One guy opens up a first-aid box.
I didn’t even see him get the box. I guess I’m still in shock, unable to fully process everything that’s happening around me. Everything becomes a blur.
The next thing I know, Seth has a white bandage over his wound. He places a hand over it.
I want to pull Seth into my arms and be the one to comfort him for once, but I’m worried I’d just hurt him. I have no idea what to do to help him.
I take his free hand, and he squeezes mine. His hand feels big and warm and safe.
“Thank you,” I whisper. Tears prick my eyes, knowing I owe this man my life, realizing how much of a brat I’ve been up.
“No problem,” he says casually, as if he hasn’t just saved my life. It’s like he has just passed me the salt or something as trivial. He winces, the pain finally getting to him.
My heart skips a beat.
Is he going to be okay?
If he’s gone, how can I ever repay him for what he has just done?
And without him protecting me, how am I supposed to survive?
Alice
“So, did you learn how to shoot in prison?” I ask with a wide grin on my face. I'm giddy with relief, now that I know Seth will be fine.
The doctor has just left, after announcing to the room that Seth needs peace and quiet to rest. Anthony and Alejandra left the room, but Seth takes my hand before I could follow them, asking me to stay.
So now it's just the two of us, with Seth already lying in his bed and me sitting at the edge. Something hangs between us, thick and intense and swirling all around us. A nameless fog that clouds my judgment and draws me to him.
It excites me, but it also terrifies me. Luckily, my attempt at lightening the mood seems to have worked.
“Of course not.” Seth says, chuckling. “Inmates don't have firearms. We used shivs, pretty exclusively.”
“Shivs? Are you serious?” I narrow my eyes at him, trying to determine if that's a joke.
“Yeah, everybody had one,” he says with a deadpan expression. He looks at my bewildered face. The corners of his lips curl up to form a smile that makes my heart skip a beat. He laughs, then says, “The guards gave them out on our first day.”
“I can totally imagine you with one, though.” I laugh. After what I just saw this morning, I can definitely believe Seth Wayne is capable of violence.
“Nah, I never even saw a shiv. I did punch a guy, though,” he says as he studies my reaction.
“Food fight at the cafeteria?” I ask, half joking.
“Not a food fight.” Seth pauses, then continues, “But it was a fight. And it was indirectly related to the food.”
“In what way?”
“Well, it had something to do with the lady who taught the cooking class.” He gives me a meaningful look.
“You mean…”
“You. Yeah.”
“You were the guy who hit Fred?” I raise my hands up to cover my mouth. I can't believe it.
“Yeah. Sorry,” he says.
“Don't worry about it. I’m sure he deserved it,” I say. “What did he do?”
“He said something that I thought wasn't respectful of you.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Fred, alright.”
“I take it you're not together anymore, then?”
“No. Should've ended it a lot sooner.”
He smiles.
“Seth, I…” I take a deep breath, summoning the strength to say what's on my mind. I glance at him. I have his full attention. I finally say, “The gunman, is he one of the men who are after me?”
“Yes,” he says simply, sending a chill down my spine.
“Why me?”
“I can't say.”
“Who are they?”
“It's better for you if you don't know that. Safer,” he says with sincerity in his eyes. I can't doubt those eyes.
“Once it's safe, are you going to let me go?”
“Of course,” he says without missing a beat. Something about the way he speaks seems off, but I can't put a finger on what's wrong. He props himself up with his elbows and straightens his arms until he's sitting upright with his palms on the bed.
“You shouldn't sit up.” I eye his bandaged wound, half-expecting to see the wound gaping open with blood pouring out of it.
But the bandage is still there, the gauze soft against the backdrop of his hard body, covering a part of the lines and ridges on his abdomen. I want to reach out and trace his skin with my fingers, but instead I tear my gaze off his shirtless body and look right into his eyes.
What are you doing to me? I think quietly as I continue to maintain eye contact with Seth.
“Does it scare you?”
“What?” I ask, alarmed. He couldn't have read my mind, could he?
“My gunshot wound,” he says, raising his eyebrows and leveling his gaze at me like a villain in a B movie, making me laugh.
“You mean your bullet-graze wound?” I tease him. The doctor took one look at him and told him, confidently, that he was going to be fine.
“Do we really need to get into the specifics? Those are just details,” he says with a playful smirk on his face.
“They say the devil is in the detail,” I say as my heart continues to pound in my chest.
<
br /> “Well, then, all the more reason to avoid it,” he says.
Before I can protest, Seth leans in and kisses me. He ravages my lips, demanding to finish what we have started at breakfast, before we got interrupted by the shooter.
He puts his hand on the back of my head and starts to pull me closer, then he suddenly jerks to a stop and groans in pain.
“Oh no, are you okay?” I ask.
He says nothing, his face frozen in a wince. His places a hand over the bandage.
“You should lie down,” I say.
He smirks, having recovered from the pain. “Only if we can continue doing what we were doing. I’m not fucking letting anything interrupt us anymore.”
My face grows red hot. I feel flutters in my center. Wetness gathers in my panties.
“So? What's it going to be, Alice?”
“Okay,” I say softly. I can almost hear the hurried pulsing of my heart in the silence of Seth’s bedroom.
Seth lies back down, seemingly in slow motion. I see every flex of his muscles, every little devilish detail of his movements. He stares at me, his eyes burning with lust. I’m fully clothed, but he has already stripped me naked with his ravenous gaze.
I gingerly get into Seth’s bed and lie down beside him. The sheets feel soft on my skin.
He turns his head to look at me and says, “I can't lie on my side. Doctor’s orders.” He smirks. “Get on top.”
I hesitate. I knew he wanted me to get up there. I want it, too, probably just as much as he does—or more. I just don’t know if this is a good idea.
I mean, I hated him yesterday, and then this morning he did something that completely redeemed him in my eyes. Things are changing a little too quickly for my comfort.
Still, I do as he says. I straddle him and lean down on top of his bare torso. I feel his hard bulge pressing up against me with urgency, igniting my desire.
The moment our lips touch, it's like my entire body has been set on fire. He reaches up and pulls me closer, putting both his hands on my head, until he’s the only thing that fills my vision.