Page 127 of Guarded Knight

Stay calm. Breathe through your nose.

I focus on the air coming in, sharp and sour and stale. Focus on keeping it slow.

Gabriel will come for me. He will. He will come…

I beg for him to come with my heart beating so hard I think I could pass out.

He’d only be minutes behind us. He’s smart. He’s lethal. He has GhostEye. He said he’s got me.

All I have to do is stay alive long enough for him to get here.

When he does, Trent won’t know what hit him.

And I’ll enjoy that sight.

I close my eyes and pull myself into discipline. CF doesn’t get to own me here. Fear doesn’t get to own me here. I cough twice, hard, clearing my chest like a reset, then start counting with the tide. In with the surf—one, two, three,cough, four. Hold. Out with the retreat—one, two, three, four.

This is how I live. This is how I last. Until he finds me.

Xander’s paranoia for my safety might finally pay off. My Navy SEAL brother drilled it into me. There’s no such thing as an emergency. Just what to do next, but you have to be in control.

In. Two, three, four…

I calm to a point where the cough settles into something shallower. Something I can handle.

I open my eyes and assess my surroundings. My hands are bound by zip ties.I can get out of these.

Suddenly, I’m thankful for Xander’s obsession with danger growing up. He watched a YouTube video and showed me how to get out of these things, even made me do it myself to prove it.

There are three ways. Disrupt the mechanism… my gaze darts around me. The laundry won’t be helpful. Slip out of them. I move my hands palm to palm, but they’re too tight. The other option hurts like hell… break that shit like a boss. I need to be standing…

Just then, Trent turns to look at me through the gap between the seats, and my heart nearly jumps out of my chest; I’m terrified he can read my mind.

“Almost there, sweet girl. Don’t worry. I’ll get you nice and comfortable.”

Timing. Xander always told me about timing. When should I try to break them? When he leads me to a second location? That’s where the evil shit goes down.

Before I get there. I have to do it before… but how…

Eventually, the van comes to a halt, and my stomach churns waiting for Trent to come around back and open the double doors. Light floods in, along with a chilled draft and the scent of chemicals.

He pulls the cart down metal tracks of premeditation.

Why me? We don’t know each other. We never dated, we aren’t friends…

He reaches inside to lift me. I thrash, kick and kick at him, hoping in vain to catch his eye or his small, cowardly dick and bring him to his knees, but he laughs and hauls me out of the cart like I weigh nothing and throws me over his shoulder.

We’re parked flush against an industrial building, and when he kicks open the door, the chemical smell grows stronger. It’s like dry cleaning…

A rusted sign reads:Pristine Pressing & Sanitation - No Entry. Vines claw the corners. One of the windows is boarded. The place is dead, but someone’s kept it just alive enough.

The world spins. My hair falls over my face, and I scream. “You will fucking pay!” The scream has cost me, and I’m coughing again from the strain on my lungs.

I pummel my bound fists against his giant back while spluttering over his neck, but he grips my forearms with his free hand, securing me like I’m no stronger than a baby.

“Angel. Stop. You’re hurting yourself. Thank God you’re back with me so I can take care of you.”

Terror shivers up my spine.