Page 71 of Ruthless

Despite the situation, she remains so calm. If I grab her hand, would her palm be as damp as my own? Doubtful. She must have nerves of steel, while it’s all I can do not to leap out of my own skin.

Struggling to draw oxygen into my lungs, I inhale and twine the pearl leash around my fist. We need a better weapon, but what? Dante doesn’t exactly let me roam around carrying an AK-47 and a sword.

I spot an umbrella stand near the back door and carefully inch over to nab one, cringing at the slight squeak as it drags free.

Holding my breath, I almost think we’re in the clear when the first man whips his head around just as I’m sinking back to my knees.

He rams the door with his shoulder. After a few attempts, the frame shatters. I scramble backward as he lunges and press the button on the side of the handle. As the umbrella pops open, I punch the guy in the chest with the pointy end. I follow that by lashing out with my foot in a perfect groin shot, triggering a glorious scream.

Angela hauls me up by the arms as if to shove me out the door, but motion outside has me actively resisting.

More men dressed in similar gear charge forward. I manage to knock the first man into the one who tries to enter on his heels. They crash to the ground, providing me with just enough cover to keep Angela in my sight.

She struggles until I hiss at her. “Did you see all those men? That way is out. We need a new plan.”

With a huff, she falls silent. As more men enter through the back door, we continue edging back the way we originally came.

They’re oddly quiet, and no one shoots at us. Yet. Maybe they’re waiting for orders?

Then realization dawns. I bet they’re staying quiet because they don’t want to alert the other guards to their location. Clearly, they hope to steal me away into the night with minimal struggle.

To hell with that. “On the count of one, stay low and sprint. One, go!”

Crouched low, I dart down the hall and start yelling. “Here!” I pray one of Dante’s guards hears me. “We’re in here!”

Curses follow, and two of the masked men rush us. I snap the chain in front of me, preventing them from getting any closer.

“Drop it, and no one gets hurt.”

That might be more believable if both of them weren’t aiming their guns at us.

Angela raises her hands. “Maybe we should do what they say.”

“What? No! For all we know, they’re only keeping us alive to assault us, and then they’ll shoot us.”

I flinch, hoping I didn’t just give them any ideas.

Distracted by Angela, I miss when the taller man lunges. Capturing my arm, he attempts to seize the chain. I struggle, kicking and hitting for all I’m worth. When he throttles my scream with his hand, I manage to sink my teeth into his flesh.

He screeches. “Fuck!”

Pain blossoms in my cheek, and his backhand whips my head to the side.

Then the beautiful drum beat of boots on the floor reaches my ears, along with a familiar shout.

“Stand down!” Gregor charges forward, his handgun trained on the first man who forced his way inside. The guy is still doubled over from my expert kick to his balls, but the men behind him poise to shoot. My stomach knots into a pretzel.

A harrowing moment of silence descends while I wait for the first crack of gunfire. Instead of bullets, a high-pitched whistle splits the tension, spurring the intruders into action.

Was that the signal they were waiting for?

The next few moments unfold in slow motion, like I’m watching them through a stranger’s eyes. Gregor’s head snaps toward Angela. Angela, in turn, releases me to shield her head as violence erupts. Bullets fly overhead, soiling the air with the acrid smell of gunpowder and hot metal.

Dante’s men scatter, yelling as they’re driven back. They’re less willing to risk hitting Angela or me by mistake, and the masked intruders take advantage of their hesitation. I scurry behind an overturned end table as brass casings litter the marble floor. When one of the men in ski masks pops up andfires from around the hallway corner, Gregor flies backward, blood fountaining near his head.

Horror seizes me.

No.