by Amity Cross
“Hopefully, there’s someone I can shoot who has one,” Chaser murmured.
I swallowed hard and watched the numbers on the display go up. When we reached thirty-three, the car came to a stop, and the doors slid open. Peering down the hall beyond, Chaser gestured for me to follow. The plush beige carpet muffled our footsteps as we moved forward, but the decor was otherwise bland and uninspiring. The long line of hotel room doors were closed, and nothing moved. I couldn’t hear a sound other than our own movements.
A wave of uneasiness came over me, and I reached for the Glock under my shirt.
“No one’s here,” I whispered.
We moved on, rounding a corner. More rooms and another empty hallway, though at the end was a glowing exit sign.
“This is too easy,” I said. “I expected there to be more men.”
Chaser grimaced, and I knew he was thinking the same thing. Up until now, the Hollow Men had always been one step ahead of us. They knew what we were doing before we even thought to do it. Something was wrong. We shouldn’t have been able to get this far without a hotel keycard.
“We can’t go back now,” he said. “This is our one chance. We’ll have to play it by ear.”
I nodded and tightened my grip on the revolver. The only way left open to us was forward.
“Try another hall?” I offered.
Chaser nodded, and we went back the way we came. The moment we turned the corner, we stopped in our tracks, and my heart twisted and stopped beating. I literally died for a full thirty seconds as everything came crashing down. I didn’t believe it when people said their lives flashed before their eyes in a near-death moment. I still didn’t believe it because nothing happened when I saw my mortality staring at me down the barrel of several guns.
A group of men blocked our way, their guns pointed directly at us. Behind them, several hotel room doors were open. I turned, only to find more had emerged from rooms in the hall we’d just been in.
Ambushed.
“We really suck at this,” I said, raising my hands. “Like epically.”
Chaser grunted. What else was he supposed to say during a moment like this?
We were screwed. Check-fucking-mate.
Chapter 24
Sloane
We were dragged into the Halcyon’s penthouse at gunpoint, all our hopes bursting into flame.
The main living room stretched out before us, the space filled with leather sofas, expensive art on the walls, plush carpets, and floor-to-ceiling windows that showed a panoramic view of the Las Vegas skyline. If it weren’t for our imminent deaths, it would’ve been almost pretty with all the twinkling lights.
Two men waited for us in the middle of the expanse…one of them was King himself.
He was just as refined as the moment I’d first met him at the FBI field office. His silver-streaked hair was swept back in the same fancy quiff, his beard short and clipped to perfection. When his gaze met mine, a familiar chill prickled my skin. Psychopath.
He stared at me, basking in his triumph. He’d been looking forward to this moment ever since he visited me in that interrogation room. Was this his plan all along? Did he know I would never agree to his terms? Probably, which made our capture burn worse.
The man standing next to him was rougher around the edges. A little chubby, tall, broad shoulders, and thinning hair. When he saw us, he looked almost…sorry. It was messed up, to say the least.
“Holden… Son of a bitch!” Chaser exclaimed, taking a step toward the man. The muscle behind Chaser grasped both his arms and pulled him back.
Holden? I glanced at Chaser and realized the guy was the FBI agent he’d gone to see. The same agent who apparently got us a signed deal. My heart sank. I guessed exoneration was probably off the table, not that it mattered considering our current situation.
“I’m sorry, Mason,” he said with a shrug. “Like you said. Things have changed.”
“You twisted son—” Chaser was pulled backward, the motion cutting off his curse.
“He knows too much,” King said, not even bothering to tear his gaze from mine. He waved a hand, and a second later, one of the men behind Holden raised his gun and fired.
I jumped, the sudden noise making my heart skip a beat. The crooked FBI agent fell to the ground, his eyes wide and blood pooling beneath him.
“An American hero,” King drawled. “Shot in the line of duty trying to defend his country.” He laughed at his own joke. “There are no heroes left in this world. Just duplicitous filth.”
Chaser tensed beside me, his expression darkening.
King raised his eyebrows. “He crossed you, and you were his partner for how many years? That’s telling. He would’ve done the same to me, given the right amount. He bought his own ending, Mason. Just like you’re buying yours.”
“And what about you?” I asked. “What ending are you buying?”
He smirked and raked his gaze over me. “If you live long enough, I might tell you.”
“You tried to manipulate me once, but I won’t let you do it again.”
King prowled forward, and I jerked away from him, but the bodyguard behind me grasped my arm and yanked me back.
“Do you really think you’re worth so little?” he asked, completely ignoring everyone else in the room. “Your freedom for that man.” He pointed at Chaser. “That’s all you had to give me, and you could’ve avoided all this. I get everything, and you get nothing.”
“You can’t put a price on human life,” I snarled. “And you especially can’t put it on love.”
King let out a laugh, and on cue, his entourage of armed heavies joined in. The result was an empty charade of what this man’s life had become. He didn’t know love. These men would kill for him but not because they cared for the guy. They were as sadistic as he was. Money, sex, power. It was like the male trifecta of getting off, and they all partook, thanks to King.
“Love?” His eyebrows rose. “Love is a farce, Sloane. The sooner you realize it, the sooner you’ll be happy.”
“More pliable to your sick sex games, you mean?” I spat at him.
It only took a split second for his expression to change from amusement to complete darkness. He raised his hand and struck me across the face, his knuckles rapping the side of my mouth. His ring dragged against my skin, splitting my lip. My head fell to the side, and my vision blurred.
“Bastard!” Chaser roared.
I tasted blood on my tongue as Chaser’s legs were kicked out from beneath him, forcing him down on his knees. There was nothing I could do.
“As you now realize,” King began. “You now belong to me. Both of you. You can’t fight. You’ll never win, so you can save yourselves a lot of pain by coming to terms with that fact. Simple, no?” He eyed both of us.
“You killed Madison.” Chaser snarled. “You shot her in the throat and forced me to watch her choke. I’ll never give up.”
“Oh no, I didn’t just shoot her,” he said. “She cried and cried while I had my fun. It was quite pitiful, actually.”
Chaser pushed upward but was forced back on his knees.
“How does that make you feel, Sloane?” King asked me. “Knowing how your pretty boyfriend still pines for his wife? Do you think he loves you like he loves her?”
“You can’t use him against me,” I replied, my eyes narrowing.
“You can never use us against each other,” Chaser said. “You can try, but you’ll never win.”
Our captor tilted his head to the side and regarded us thoughtfully. Nothing moved for a full minute as he silently deliberated.
“Take him,” King said, waving a hand at Chaser. “Put him in the other bedroom, and give him a warm welcome.”
The men holding Chaser pulled him away, and I thrashed against the heavy who was grasping my arm with brute force.
“No!” I screeched. “Don’t you fucking touch him!”
A second man came forward and grabbed hold of me, and I was dragged into th
e next room, kicking and screaming. I was slapped across the face again, then my arms were wrenched in front, and a man bound each wrist with thick nylon cord, leaving some slack in between.
Finally, they lifted me up and looped the rope around a hook that hung from the ceiling, my weight causing the bindings to drag painfully at my wrists. My toes barely touched the ground, so I felt no relief. I was strung up like a carcass in a butcher’s refrigerator, unable to do anything but swing.
“Leave us,” King said, gesturing to the two bodyguards.
“Sir?” They seemed hesitant.
“I said, leave us.”
I saw the fear in their eyes as they backed out of the room, closing the door behind them. It was a modest space, though the finishings were premium. A king-sized bed took up much of the room, and floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across one side, revealing a spectacular view of the Las Vegas Strip beyond. I noticed my revolver was laying on the bed, atop the plush bedspread. It was like a screwed-up metaphor. So close, yet so far.
King breathed in deeply, air whistling through his nostrils. “Alone at last.”
I tensed, pursing my lips. I couldn’t let him get into my head. I had to clear my mind and work out how to get out of this. If I could get down, then I had a chance. Not much of one, but it was better than letting King cut me.
“I like what you’ve done to your hair,” he said, raking his fingers through it.
I jerked my head to the side, but he grabbed onto a chunk and pulled.
“Enjoy this moment,” I said, seething. “Enjoy it while it lasts, you sick son of a bitch, because it will be the last time.”
“Really?” He smiled and caressed his palms over my breasts. “That’s what they all say, and you know what happens next? They all die…eventually. It’s rather disappointing.”
Bile rose in the back of my throat, signaling terror was attempting to claw its way to the surface. I wouldn’t let it.
“What did you think you were going to do, Sloane? Break into my penthouse, murder me, and take my server key?”
“You know what we were going to do,” I retorted. “Stop playing your games.”
A pained cry tore through the wall separating me from Chaser, and my heart twisted. The awful sounds of flesh hitting flesh were muffled but unmistakable. Their ‘warm welcome’ was nothing more than a glorified beating.
I swung, my shoulders aching as I was forced to hear Chaser in pain. Staring defiantly at my captor, I imagined blowing a hole in his head…right between his eyes.
King’s lips quirked as the sounds intensified. “He held out longer than I thought he would. They usually scream within the first thirty seconds.” He stood before me, and his smile widened. “That feeling you have now? Mason is going to be lying there, covered in his own blood, listening to your screams as I slice into your skin. Imagine if you got off on my cock inside you? Him hearing you moan and beg?”
I glanced around the room, looking for a way out, then at the spark of silver around his neck. There was still a chance, wasn’t there? If I could just…
“Is this what you’re after?” King pulled at the chain and dangled the pendant in front of my face. So close.
It was as we’d hoped. The key to the Hollow Men’s server hung around that asshole’s neck. Everything we needed to destroy them forever.
Honestly, it wasn’t anything special to look at. The pendant was a long silver stick of metal and looked nothing like a key or thumb drive. It was just a stick of metal hanging on a chain, but Chaser said it might be something like that. If it contained a chip that could be scanned, then that was all King needed to hold the codes. He was a rich son of a bitch, so the latest technology was always within his grasp.
If I didn’t do anything, there wouldn’t be a happy ending for me. I would be cut, beaten, bled, tortured, and raped. I winced as the sounds of Chaser being beaten in the next room intensified. I bit my lip, stifling my tears.
Remember what Chaser taught you, I thought. Remember. Freedom, love, forever.
“Freedom, love, forever…” I whispered.
“You’ll have to speak up, baby,” King said, leaning over me. His face was so close to mine that I could feel his breath against my skin.
“I said… Eat shit.” I pulled my head back and brought it forward with all my strength, my forehead cracking against King’s nose.
He stumbled, his hand flying to his face, and I prayed I had the upper body strength to pull this off. Curling my fingers around the hook, I grasped the metal for dear life and raised my feet off the ground. As King recovered and moved toward me, his eyes full of rage, I struck, kicking him in the chest with everything I had. He staggered to the side, then fell, cracking his head on the bed frame.
Shit! I’d done it! This was one of those superhuman moments where adrenaline fueled the impossible. Right then, I didn’t care why, just that it was.
King moaned as he rolled onto his side, and I knew I only had ten seconds before I was dead. I didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or the fear driving me, but I pulled myself up, holding the hook and edging upward. All I needed was a tiny bit of slack… My muscles burned as my palms were rubbed raw, and I felt blood trickling down my forearms from my wrists, but I didn’t stop. I inched further toward freedom until the rope flicked over the end of the hook.
With a burst of euphoria, my boots landed on the carpet, and I dove for my revolver. My fingers grasped the butt, and I swung around, aiming at the piece of shit at my feet.
King lay on the floor, looking up at me with a snarl on his lips. “You’ll never be able to pull that trigger.”
I clicked off the safety. “That’s what my father said.”
I took the shot, the boom echoing through the room and into infinity. I didn’t even hesitate.
King stared up at me, blood pouring from the ragged tear in his throat. He tried to draw in a breath but choked instead, crawling toward me through the growing red puddle on the floor.
“Now you know what it feels like to buy your own ending,” I said, stepping back as he reached toward me.
His fingers grazed the toe of my boot, then he went slack, his eyes glazing over.
Then…
The blood bubbled through the hole in his throat.
And that was it.
King was dead.
Kneeling beside his body, I reached down and pulled on the chain around his neck. It snapped, and I tugged the key free.
“Thank you,” I murmured to King’s corpse. “Thank you, for showing me how powerful I really am. I’ll never forget it.”
Chapter 25
Chaser
Blood dripped from my mouth and soaked into the carpet.
A fist slammed into the back of my head, and I fell facedown, my ribs burning. A boot collided with my side, and I cried out despite biting my tongue. I was pummeled, punched and kicked savagely, but all I could think about was Sloane. I had to get to her, I—
I roared in pain as one of the men stomped on my arm. They laughed and went on kicking. My head snapped to the side as a boot collided with the side of my face, stars exploding through my vision.
“I’ll kill you,” I rasped.
“Hear that?” one of the men said. The bigger, fat one. “He says he’s gonna kill us.”
The second man burst out laughing and slapped his buddy on the shoulder. “Like to see him try.”
“I’ll kill you,” I said again.
A boom echoed from the next room, and my head moved toward the sound.
“What was that?” the big one asked.
“It’s a gunshot, you idiot,” the other replied.
There was a bang at the door, and it flung inward, revealing an extremely pissed off Sloane. She raised her hands, and the glint of metal caught my eye.
“Eat shit, assholes,” she drawled, then opened fire.
Before the men could react, bullets slammed into their chests in a shower of blood. The first one dropped, the second stumbled and reac
hed for his gun, but Sloane was faster. She shot him again, and he went down…and didn’t get up.
Dropping the revolver, she fell to her knees beside me, her mouth falling open in shock. It must be bad, then.
Her wrists were bound. Her skin was rubbed raw and bleeding. Her lip was split, and a red mark blazed across her cheek.
“He hung you,” I said, my fingers brushing weakly at the nylon rope around her wrists. “The bastard hung you.”
“Past tense,” she murmured, checking my wounds. “I shot him.” She paused, her gaze meeting mine. “Right through the throat.”
“He choked…”
“He choked.”
“Good.” I closed my eyes, but everything burned. I was fairly sure I had cracked ribs, a broken arm, a severe concussion, and they were the least of my problems.
“Oh, God,” Sloane whispered, realizing how bad I was.
I could feel it. The cold. It seeped into my veins, spreading across my chest and into my limbs. Something was bleeding inside me.
“There’s a security system,” I said. “There’s a panel beside the door. Lock us down.”
“Won’t they be able to get in?”
“Eventually.”
She nodded and rushed to the controls beside the bedroom door. It wouldn’t stop them, but it would buy us some time.
I rolled onto my back and gritted my teeth as my broken bones grated. Nausea rolled through my stomach, and I swallowed to keep myself from throwing up.
“This is the complete opposite of Thelma and Louise, just so you know.” Sloane smoothed the hair from my brow, the movement awkward because of her bound wrists.
“I’m not ready to die just yet.” I coughed, my ribs grating together.
“Even if we have to spend the rest of our days in a maximum security prison?”
“We won’t go to prison, Sloane.”
“Says who?”
“Says the signed letter from the director of the FBI.”
“Assuming it’s real,” she complained.