Page 119 of Wallflower

I make it all of one step before Ripley’s arm bands around my waist, tugging me back. “Wait for me. You’re going the wrong way.”

Pulling another pistol from under his shirt like a fucking magician, he steps out. Swinging his gun left, then right, before silently moving down the hall, beckoning with his fingers for me to follow.

What else does he have hidden under that gore-covered button-up?

We come upon a destroyed kitchenette. Blood is smeared across the floor, Brad lying pale and cold within the centre of the crimson lake. There’s glass everywhere, broken appliances, and shattered cabinetry.

My sights dance to Rip. Did he do this?

His mouth is a firm line, though a parade of emotions can be seen within his dark eyes. He extends his hand to me, breaking his line of sight to Brad.

Rip pulls me into his chest, nuzzling into my hair and breathing deep. He scoops me up, tossing my body onto his shoulder. I squeak, kicking my feet in annoyance. “I need a free hand in case someone intercepts us.”

Fine.

He pulls open a pantry door, and steps inside. A long dark hallway lies before us, and I have to wonder how the fuck he knew this was here.

Despite his injury, Rip’s footsteps are light, quick, as he moves through the darkness. It sounds like he’s counting each step, which makes no sense to me at all.

Carefully, he slides me off his shoulder. I can’t see him, but his lips brush across the apple of my cheek, trailing to graze my ear as he whispers, “Stay behind me. Have that gun ready.”

I nod, murmuring a “mhmm,” since he can’t see me.

“Don’t do something stupid,” he growls.

Who me?Never. I let loose a quiet sound of objection, and he silently exhales a huff against my neck. “Just…don’t run off. Once we’re out of here and I have cell service, my team will descend upon this fucking place and search every inch for her. I promise. Just stay by my side.”

Okay, you big softy. I’ll obey.

I thread my fingers through his. He sucks in a sharp breath at the contact. “Let’s go,” he chokes.

He doesn’t release my hand as he leads us from the dark. Pulling back a curtain I didn’t know was there, he blinds us with the light of the high afternoon sun.

His spine shoots straight, and he shoves me behind him.

“Ripley.”

“Reid.”

I risk a peek out from behind Rip’s massive frame. Standing before us with a flank of armed gunmen, is who I assume to be the butler, though he looks more like an assassin with all the guns strapped to him.

“Are we about to have a problem?”

“Not at all, Mr. Morgan. Don’t you recognize your own men?”

One by one the people at Reid’s back remove their protective helmets and face masks.

Ripley almost drops to his knees in relief, and that unwinds the tension in my chest. “You about gave me a heart attack, asshole.”

“My apologies. Is everyone taken care of?”

“Yes.”

“Very good,” Reid replies, though his eyes betray him, heavy with sadness.

“You’re free, Reid, though you’ll always have a place with my team, if you want it. And my lifelong gratitude.”

“Thank you, sir, but I think I’ve had enough of this life.”