Page 151
Story: Wicked and Claimed
In near pitch blackness, Haisley shimmied into her bra and panties, then raced to the dresser, yanking out one of the gauzy silk slips they’d provided and pulled it over her head. The fabric clung to her curves like water, but at least she wasn’t naked anymore. Beneath the negligees she found what she really needed.
She grabbed the burner phone, tucking it into her bra since the slip had no pockets. Then her fingers closed around cool metal—the GLOCK Nash had left her. The weight felt foreign in her hand. She pushed aside her discomfort. She could do this. She had to. After all, she’d been shooting a few times, mostly because Nash had taken her out and taught her, but that had been years ago.
She wracked her brain to remember how to handle the weapon. Fingers trembling, she racked a round, vaguely trying to remember if GLOCKs had a safety. It was too dark to see, and she didn’t have time to look. She’d have to carry the gun carefully.
A loud click in the relative silence told her someone had unlocked the door to the suite—and she doubted it was Nash.
That meant she was no longer alone.
Her heart leapt in her throat. Adrenaline pumped, making her body weak-kneed and hyperaware as she scanned the suite in the dark, looking for somewhere to hide. But this place was designed for luxury and comfort during long-term stays, not tactical defenses.
With her options limited, she darted into the bathroom and eased the door mostly closed, hoping she wasn’t making a fatal mistake. Through the gap, she had a clear view of the entry, so she crouched, watching and waiting.
Seconds later, the main door swung open. Dr. Haynes strode in, flanked by two armed guards. Her white coat gleamed eerily in the red emergency lighting flooding in from the hall. The doctor scanned the room with cold efficiency.
Why were they here? Maybe they intended to round up all the women in the tower to use them as hostages and human shields against EM Security’s raid. But if that was the case, why would the doctor be leading the search? Surely, she was too important to the Velvet Cove’s cause to be fetching all the women.
Through the crack, Haisley watched Dr. Haynes’s face harden. “Spread out. Find her. She’s our number-one target. Black Velvet wants her locked up in medical immediately.”
Black Velvet. The mastermind behind this nightmare wanted her first and foremost. Why?
“Check the closet,” the doctor ordered as she moved toward the rumpled bed and checked behind the curtains. “The bitch can’t have gone far.”
Haisley’s fingers tightened on the gun. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she weighed her options. She could try to shoot her way out, but the guards were heavily armed with scary assault-rifle style guns. One stray bullet and… Shaking, she pressed her hand to her abdomen again. She couldn’t risk it. Not with Nash’s baby—and their future—at stake.
She needed help.The phone!
Haisley just hoped that backup didn’t come too late.
Carefully, she retrieved the burner device from her bra. The screen lit up like a beacon in the darkness. Smothering a curse, she quickly dimmed it, then typed out a text to the only number stored in its memory:
Guards + doctor in suite. Armed. Help!
A guard’s boots scraped closer to the bathroom. Haisley held her breath, easing even deeper into the shadows of the shower stall. The massive glass enclosure might offer some protection if bullets started flying, and she was tucked out of the direct line of sight from both the giant mirror over the sink and the entry.
The bathroom door creaked open. Haisley bit the inside of her cheek to hold in a whimper. She tasted fear and blood.
“Clear!” the guard called after a cursory glance into the dark room.
Haisley’s knees nearly buckled with relief. From her hidden position, she watched him backtrack to the suite’s open area.
“She’s not here,” the other guard reported. “I looked under the bed, in the closet… But the drawer is open. From our surveillance, that means she took her master’s gun. She’s armed.”
Dr. Haynes cursed. “Spread out. Search the whole floor. She can’t have gone far in just a few minutes with the elevators down. And she’s carrying precious cargo now. We can’t risk her life or let her harm herself. And she cannot—under any circumstances—get away.”
Precious cargo.The words sent chills down Haisley’s spine. These people saw her baby as a bargaining chip and a commodity to be sold to the highest bidder.
Over her dead body.
The suite door clicked shut. Haisley counted to twenty before creeping from the bathroom. The hallway beyond their door would be crawling with guards. She needed somewhere to hide until Nash could reach her. Somewhere defensible.
Her heart ached. Was he okay? Fighting his way to her? Or… No. She couldn’t think the worst. Nash was the strongest person she knew. He’d come back unscathed from many ops, and he’d survived two years without her. She couldn’t lose him now. Not to death. Not to anything.
Fate wouldn’t be that cruel, right?
She’d taken two steps when the connecting door to the neighboring suite burst open.
More guards poured through. Haisley dove behind the couch, heart in her throat. Three, no, four more armed men. Plus Dr. Haynes was still in the hallway. The odds were getting worse by the second.
She grabbed the burner phone, tucking it into her bra since the slip had no pockets. Then her fingers closed around cool metal—the GLOCK Nash had left her. The weight felt foreign in her hand. She pushed aside her discomfort. She could do this. She had to. After all, she’d been shooting a few times, mostly because Nash had taken her out and taught her, but that had been years ago.
She wracked her brain to remember how to handle the weapon. Fingers trembling, she racked a round, vaguely trying to remember if GLOCKs had a safety. It was too dark to see, and she didn’t have time to look. She’d have to carry the gun carefully.
A loud click in the relative silence told her someone had unlocked the door to the suite—and she doubted it was Nash.
That meant she was no longer alone.
Her heart leapt in her throat. Adrenaline pumped, making her body weak-kneed and hyperaware as she scanned the suite in the dark, looking for somewhere to hide. But this place was designed for luxury and comfort during long-term stays, not tactical defenses.
With her options limited, she darted into the bathroom and eased the door mostly closed, hoping she wasn’t making a fatal mistake. Through the gap, she had a clear view of the entry, so she crouched, watching and waiting.
Seconds later, the main door swung open. Dr. Haynes strode in, flanked by two armed guards. Her white coat gleamed eerily in the red emergency lighting flooding in from the hall. The doctor scanned the room with cold efficiency.
Why were they here? Maybe they intended to round up all the women in the tower to use them as hostages and human shields against EM Security’s raid. But if that was the case, why would the doctor be leading the search? Surely, she was too important to the Velvet Cove’s cause to be fetching all the women.
Through the crack, Haisley watched Dr. Haynes’s face harden. “Spread out. Find her. She’s our number-one target. Black Velvet wants her locked up in medical immediately.”
Black Velvet. The mastermind behind this nightmare wanted her first and foremost. Why?
“Check the closet,” the doctor ordered as she moved toward the rumpled bed and checked behind the curtains. “The bitch can’t have gone far.”
Haisley’s fingers tightened on the gun. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she weighed her options. She could try to shoot her way out, but the guards were heavily armed with scary assault-rifle style guns. One stray bullet and… Shaking, she pressed her hand to her abdomen again. She couldn’t risk it. Not with Nash’s baby—and their future—at stake.
She needed help.The phone!
Haisley just hoped that backup didn’t come too late.
Carefully, she retrieved the burner device from her bra. The screen lit up like a beacon in the darkness. Smothering a curse, she quickly dimmed it, then typed out a text to the only number stored in its memory:
Guards + doctor in suite. Armed. Help!
A guard’s boots scraped closer to the bathroom. Haisley held her breath, easing even deeper into the shadows of the shower stall. The massive glass enclosure might offer some protection if bullets started flying, and she was tucked out of the direct line of sight from both the giant mirror over the sink and the entry.
The bathroom door creaked open. Haisley bit the inside of her cheek to hold in a whimper. She tasted fear and blood.
“Clear!” the guard called after a cursory glance into the dark room.
Haisley’s knees nearly buckled with relief. From her hidden position, she watched him backtrack to the suite’s open area.
“She’s not here,” the other guard reported. “I looked under the bed, in the closet… But the drawer is open. From our surveillance, that means she took her master’s gun. She’s armed.”
Dr. Haynes cursed. “Spread out. Search the whole floor. She can’t have gone far in just a few minutes with the elevators down. And she’s carrying precious cargo now. We can’t risk her life or let her harm herself. And she cannot—under any circumstances—get away.”
Precious cargo.The words sent chills down Haisley’s spine. These people saw her baby as a bargaining chip and a commodity to be sold to the highest bidder.
Over her dead body.
The suite door clicked shut. Haisley counted to twenty before creeping from the bathroom. The hallway beyond their door would be crawling with guards. She needed somewhere to hide until Nash could reach her. Somewhere defensible.
Her heart ached. Was he okay? Fighting his way to her? Or… No. She couldn’t think the worst. Nash was the strongest person she knew. He’d come back unscathed from many ops, and he’d survived two years without her. She couldn’t lose him now. Not to death. Not to anything.
Fate wouldn’t be that cruel, right?
She’d taken two steps when the connecting door to the neighboring suite burst open.
More guards poured through. Haisley dove behind the couch, heart in her throat. Three, no, four more armed men. Plus Dr. Haynes was still in the hallway. The odds were getting worse by the second.
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