by Mia Hoddell
“Cut her ties. She can’t ride with me like that,” I snapped, pointing to Alaya’s bound wrists.
Ryder flicked his gaze to Crowley for instructions. What I said made sense, yet I didn’t give out the orders.
“Cut them and retie them in front of her,” Crowley barked.
I didn’t want to let Ryder past, especially with a knife. My molars ground together throughout the whole process and if Levi didn’t hurry up there was going to be nothing left of them since it happened to be the only action preventing me from saying something stupid.
I couldn’t give anything away by being arrogant. For our whole plan to work, Crowley needed to be caught with us. If I did anything to tip him off everything would fail and I’d be back to running.
Ryder stepped back and strolled over to the other car. He opened the door, resting his hand on the roof and answering the question as to who I’d be racing.
Come on, Levi. I resisted the urge to tap my foot impatiently and to keep from glancing around the room. Now would have been a good time to make an entrance.
“Same course as last time, Arnold, and the same rules. If you win your girl goes free.”
My thoughts whirled, trying to think of a way to stall when the sound of sirens penetrated the walls of the building. Relief washed over me instantly. It was the signal we’d agreed upon for when the police were about to enter the building. We planned to cause panic and block the exits with everyone fleeing so Crowley couldn’t get out.
As soon as I thought it everybody started to scatter. The crowd that had once lined the wall morphed into a stampede as they fought to get out of the nearest exits. No one cared who they had to push out of the way or trample on to do it, they were all in a desperate fit to distance themselves from what was soon going to be a crime scene.
The sirens kept wailing.
Crowley glanced between me and the blocked exits.
His mouth twisted into a snarl and anger clouded his vision as he realised what was going on. His hand disappeared to the waistband of his jeans behind his back and the next set of events seemed to unfold in a blur.
One moment the warehouse appeared relatively empty, the next it filled with police. A flurry of activity burst into the room as tactical officers took up their position. They blocked the exits, penning in all those who weren’t quick or strong enough to have forced their way out, but I could only focus on Crowley.
His eyes narrowed into cruel slits as he held a gun out in front of him.
Someone shouted for him to give himself up; for him to put the gun on the floor and hold his hands above his head.
It all happened too fast to comprehend.
A shot fired.
Alaya screamed behind me.
Crowley writhed on the ground, his body convulsing from the Taser.
I whirled around only to find Alaya sprawled on the ground on her back, her eyes shut. I went to rush to her, an animalistic roar ripping from my throat, except something held me back. A steel grip locked around my waist, and no matter how much I clawed at it I couldn’t break free.
Fluorescent jackets filled my vision, blocking her from view.
I struggled harder.
Kicking and shouting, I fought with every ounce of strength to free myself as someone dragged me backwards.
“Cole, stop fighting me!” Levi’s voice broke through the red mist of anger compelling me to attack him, yet it wasn’t enough. “She’s going to be fine. You have to stop fighting me.”
The words didn’t register.
I needed to get to Alaya.
Nothing else mattered.
I needed to see for myself what had happened.
My head twitched like a wild animal that’d had its prey stolen. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t shake him.
Suddenly, my body slammed into the side of the Golf. The force Levi used knocked all of the air from me as he pinned me with his body and the metal crushed my bruised ribs. Using all of his bodyweight, he forced me to remain against the car while an arm to the back of my neck stopped my head from moving.
“Calm the fuck down! You need to get a hold of yourself.”
Waking up from the anger, I snapped my mouth shut with the realisation that the demented cries were coming from me.
Immediately, everything fell silent.
I collapsed against the car, my body deflating.
I buried my face into my arm and a shaky breath escaped my lips. It almost transformed into a sob as I punched the roof of the car.
I caused all of this.
She got involved because of my inability to leave her alone.
I promised her she’d remain safe and now she lay on the floor surrounded by paramedics, fighting for her life.
I punched the car again, the pain not enough to make the guilt vanish.
I got her shot. Fucking shot!
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Alaya
I awoke to see two faces watching me. One of them—a dark haired man—said something. His lips moved and his eyes locked on mine, but it was taking a while for things to come back to me. Everything felt as if I’d been submerged underwater; my hearing was fuzzy, my eyes were taking a while to focus, and when I tried to move my arm it felt like I was fighting against a wall of water.
Eventually, things began to clear. My hand reached the back of my head to poke at the tender spot that throbbed. I hissed when my fingers made contact, and I recoiled from my own touch with a wince. A hand covered by a latex glove closed around mine, bringing it back down into my lap.
“Can you tell me your name, miss?” the man asked gently.
I stared at him quizzically, but answered the question. “Alaya Matthews.”
“Okay, Alaya, I’m Rick. Do you know where we are?”
“No, I never saw the outside of the building. They blindfolded me.”
He nodded, giving me a weak smile I assumed was meant to be encouraging. “Do you remember what happened?”
I searched my memory for the events that had unfolded. “I remember the sirens then chaos. Crowley had a gun pointed at Cole when the police broke in. I fainted when he fired it.” My eyes bugged out of my head and I attempted to sit up. When Rick’s hand on my shoulder stopped me a whimper escaped my lips.
“Easy. I’ll let you up, only you have to do it slowly. Okay?” Rick removed his hand from my shoulder, yet kept it in front of me to prevent me moving too quickly. When my hands touched the floor I realised someone had cut the ties on my wrists.
“Is Cole all right?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.
Rick held out a finger in front of my face. “Can you touch my finger and then your nose as quickly as you can?”
I frowned at his finger, as if by focusing on it I could make it disappear. When it didn’t, I raised one hand and did what he asked. He made me repeat the action a few times until he could see my frustration growing.
“Is Cole okay?” I repeated, and when he still didn’t respond panic seized my chest. Silence only meant one thing, right? If Cole was fine then he’d tell me. People only hid things when they knew the answer would not be received well.
Dread washed through me, paralysing me immediately as my pulse thundered. Tears burned the back of my eyes and began rising to form a blurry barrier. My lips parted and I attempted to suck in enough air. The room suddenly felt too small. Everyone was too close and suffocating me.
“Alaya, I need you to calm down for me.” Rick’s voice remained too level. “Take deep breaths, okay? In and out.”
“Cole?” I choked out the name. Only when someone gave me the truth would I be able to calm down.
“I’ve sent someone to check. Only one officer was wounded.”
My whole body sank a little at his words, the panic leaving me in a rush so quick that no other emotion had time to fill its place. Sagging against the car door the tears broke free and trickled down over my cheekbone.
Cole was fine.
He had to be.
“Can I stand up?” I sniffed, wiping away the tears with the back of my hand. Feeling my strength returning, I wanted to see for myself what had gone on.
Rick nodded. “You have a knock to the back of your head, but you slid down the car when you fainted so you didn’t hit it as hard as you could have. You don’t have a concussion, but I want you to be around someone for the next twenty-four hours.” He then proceeded to reel off a list of things I needed to look out for and if any of them appeared he ordered me to go straight to A&E.
I knew he was only doing his job, yet I tuned his words out. My mind could only focus on being able to find Cole.
Finally, he stopped talking and stepped back. He offered me a hand and slowly I got to my feet. It took me a second to gain my balance, which drew a concerned glance from Rick who kept hold of my hand and steered me so my back rested against the car.
“I’m fine.” I brushed off his concern as my gaze found the car opposite me. Cole rested against it, his head bowed and his back tensed. His fists balled against the metal, his knuckles white. I saw his chest rise and puff out with his inhale and then he raised his hand, bringing it down on the car with a crack.
A dark haired man leaned next to him against the car, saying something too quietly for anyone other than Cole to hear. His stance was poised, as if ready to jump into action at any moment. Unlike everyone else, he dressed in jeans and a shirt, a bulletproof vest fixed over the top. He appeared exhausted, emotionally and physically.
The movement around me must have caught his attention because he glanced over at me. His eyes wandered the length of my body with a look of concern. When they reached my face he gave me a tight smile and turned to Cole. Tapping him on the back, Cole’s head tilted to the side to listen to whatever the man had to say.
As if his words sent a jolt of electricity down Cole’s spine, he became rigid. He bolted upright and whirled in my direction abruptly. His tortured gaze found mine while his lips parted with a gasp and his eyes glazed over with tears.
Within seconds he pushed off the car, strode towards me, and embraced me in a crushing hug. He swept me up into his arms until my feet no longer touched the floor, squeezing me to him like he couldn’t believe I was real.
“I’m sorry, so sorry. I thought I’d lost you. I thought Crowley had shot you. They wouldn’t let me near you and it would have all been my fault.” Murmuring apologies and other nonsense, he buried his nose in my hair. I allowed him to continue, getting it all off his chest as he held me.
One hand remained around my waist while the other trailed up to my head. His fingers entwined in my hair and as he held me close, he grazed the bump on my scalp.
I inhaled sharply and instantly Cole pulled back. Gazing down at me, worry marred his features as he tried to get a better view of my head. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. I hit my head when I fainted.”
Guilt flickered across his face and he hung his head. The grip he had on my waist faltered, becoming loose, and his fingers twitched hesitantly.
“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I should never have left you alone. Hell, I should never have allowed you to talk me into going out to the markets in the first place. I knew it wasn’t safe for you and I did it anyway.”
Sensing he was about to let go, I moved my hand down his arm to cover his. Holding him in place, I closed the distance between us again. I refused to let him talk himself out of us after he’d told me he loved me.
“Cole, I’m fine. The paramedic said so.”
“That’s not the point. You shouldn’t have been here in the first place.” The intense anger in his words startled me. “To see you like that …”
I craned my neck back and he gazed off into the distance so all I could see was the thick layer of stubble coating his jaw. “Cole, look at me.”
He glanced down, his jaw set in a firm line like he had already dismissed the words I had yet to speak.
“I’m fine, stop beating yourself up. We’re safe now and I love you, so don’t fucking pull away from me.” I balled my fists in his shirt, keeping him next to me. I hadn’t wanted to admit it when he said it earlier. As soon as the words escaped from his lips I wanted him to recall them. They felt like a sentence for the exact lifestyle I was looking to avoid.
Love had never been on the agenda when I started out. However, for the minute I thought the paramedic was keeping his death from me I realised I’d fallen anyway. I had been able to deny it all throughout the trip, but with the prospect of him no longer being around my heart spiralled out of control. For a split second it felt like it had been ripped from my chest. I thought he’d died and would never know I loved him because I’d been too scared to admit it.
All of that made it impossible not to tell him. I based my whole life living in the moment and following my heart, then ignored it on one of the biggest decisions possible. If I was to be true to myself I couldn’t keep it inside any longer.
Cole’s eyes widened and he slanted his mouth over mine. He kissed me like a starving man.
A throat cleared behind us and reluctantly Cole drew back. Resting his forehead against mine, he gazed down at me in wonder. “I love you too. But we really need to work on your delivery.” He chuckled, the sound warming me from the inside out.
“What was wrong with my delivery?” I pouted and he nipped on my lip.
“Nothing, it was perfectly you.”
The throat cleared behind us again and Cole raised his head to frown at whoever interrupted us. Tucking me under his arm, we focused our attention on the man who had been stood next to Cole by the car.
“Levi, Gingernut. Gingernut, this is the real Levi.”
“If you weren’t injured I’d punch you myself,” I murmured then turned to Levi who grinned at me like he was trying to bite back a laugh. “I’m Alaya … not Gingernut.”
“Nice to meet you.” He cocked his head curiously at Cole. “The real Levi?”
Cole proceeded to explain everything that happened in France with Ryder and I interjected when necessary. As we spoke I didn’t think it was possible, but Levi’s face became even more angular as his jaw hardened. His nostrils flared and when I glanced up at Cole his were doing exactly the same thing, especially when I mentioned the drugs.
“Do you need to go to the hospital, Alaya? I think it would be best to get yourself checked out to make sure there aren’t any side effects.”
I waved him off. No way in hell was I spending eight hours waiting in A&E only to be poked and prodded. I felt fine, just a little weak. “I’m good.”
“I’d rather you got checked out.” Cole’s grip on me tightened, his voice sounding tense, like he was barely keeping a lid on his anger.
“I’m fine. I promise if I notice anything odd I’ll go in straight away.”
Neither of them seemed convinced, but unless one of them threw me over their shoulder and carried me there, I wasn’t going. And by the resigned expressions on their faces they could see that.
“I’m going to need to get both of your statements officially down at the station, yours especially, Alaya.”
“We’ll follow you there now. I want to get this over with as soon as possible,” Cole said and I didn’t bother to correct him. In all honesty, so did I.
“It will be, Cole. We’ve got enough on him and Ryder to put them away for life. They won’t be getting out again, I’ll make sure of it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Alaya
Cole lied and forced me to A&E. After spending three hours there—most of it in waiting—only to be told what I’d said to him already, we then spent a further two and a half hours at the station giving our statements. Levi wanted every tiny detail I could remember first, making me pour over every minute I was kidnapped until he drained me of all my energy. Finally, though, Cole appeared from the interview room and we were both free to leave.
“You feeling okay?” He took my hand in his and circled his thumb over the back
to send relaxing waves through me.
“Stop worrying. You’re the one with all of the bruises.”
“They’ll heal.” He shrugged. “Alaya, you were drugged. How am I not meant to worry?”
“You heard what they said in the hospital. The Ketamine needs to work itself out of my system and I need to go straight in if I notice anything odd, which I won’t.”
He hummed dubiously, but made no comment. We walked on in silence, not bothering to find a taxi despite the fact I could see Cole trying to hide his limp.
“So now what?” I asked finally, swinging our arms between us until I realised it probably hurt him and stopped.
“We could go for coffee, or my flat’s relatively close so we could go there if you want.”
“Oooh, I feel honoured. Is it like the Batcave?”
He peered down at me, perplexed. The silence between us lingered for a minute as he attempted to figure out what I meant, and it created this cute little frown. “Why would it be like the Batcave?”
“Because you were on the run so it’s like your hideaway,” I stated like it was blatantly obvious.
“First of all, the Batcave was a control room, so your logic doesn’t work. Secondly, I never used my flat as a hideaway. I was only on the run when Crowley’s release came up and I took off to France.”
I rolled my eyes with a huff. “Fine. Is it like a bachelor pad then?”
“You really have no patience.”
“And you’re avoiding the question.”
We paused outside a block of flats. It wasn’t exactly in the best area, yet Cole could have done a lot worse than the sandy-coloured building with eight floors. Windows with white frames lined the front, and apart from a few lights and security cameras that was it.
“The lift is broken so we’ll have to take the stairs.”
I groaned. “What floor do you live on?”
“Eight.” At my agonised cry his grin grew even wider. “I’m kidding, I live on two.”
“Thank God for small mercies.”
