Page 135 of Guarded Knight

I brace against the wall and blink fast. The light overhead flickers, or maybe it’s my vision. My mouth’s like sandpaper, and my heart’s beating too fast. Adrenaline, dehydration, the injection? Maybe all three.

I grit my teeth, drag in slow breaths.I cannot pass out now.

Even in my head my voice is a whisper.Stay alert. You can do this.

The bottles of water call to me, and I tell myself I don’t need it.You’re breathing. You’re alive. And you are a fucking force to be reckoned with, Lara.I pump myself up… tell myself I can take down even a gorilla.

I thank my brother and Gabriel for that. For making me tough. For letting me shadow and play their “boy” games…

Gabriel.

My eyes sting thinking about how close we were…are… how close we are.He’s coming. And you’re escaping. You’re making your way to each other just as it was written in the stars.

Just don’t give up and don’t go easy on this bastard when he comes through the door.

The heater kicks louder. The drip in the wall speeds up, or maybe I just notice it more. Every sound is too loud, too close. I bite the inside of my cheek. Hard.Stay upright, Lara. Stay angry.

Then…

The scratch of footsteps on the concrete floor outside. The rattle of keys.

My breath locks in my throat.

Then the click of the lock.

He’s here.

I keep my eyes forward, muscles coiled. Tighten my grip on the bottle. He’s humming again. Something soft and tuneless.

The door creaks open.

He steps inside, and the back of his head lowers when he sees the mess of vials. He makes the error of bending down to pick one up, standing nice and wide… legs spread, giving me the perfect sight of my target.

Now.

I launch out from behind the door and swing my foot up with everything I have. A solid, vicious crack right between the legs.

He makes a noise that could split the universe, part shock, part pain, and lands with a thud on his knees but manages to somehow turn toward me, trying to swipe and grab, but I upload the antiseptic spray right in his eyes.

“Fuck!” He howls, clutching his face. He falls back, crashing into the antique cabinet. Bottles scatter everywhere.

I run.

The hallway outside is a nightmare—dark, narrow, crumbling. The air smells like mold and old detergent. Fluorescent lights flicker above like they’re winking out one by one.

I look over my shoulder. Behind me, Trent roars, and he fumbles to his feet, bracing himself in the doorway, hardly able to open his eyes.

I fly out into the enormous main warehouse, across the catwalk, and down metal stairs. I need an exit. I don’t know how long I can run; I’m dizzy. I’m not right but I need out in the open. On the lower level, I pass rusted machinery and stacks of dusty linen carts.

My lungs burn. My legs scream.

My bare feet slap down hard on the cold, dirty floor, and I bolt into a side hall. The tiles here are broken, slick with some kind of moisture. I slide and go down, banging my hip bone against the hard surface.

“Shit.” I push myself to my feet but I’m losing strength.I don’t feel right.

“Angel…” Trent’s voice calls from the staircase I just descended. He makes a few guttural sounds that echo in the space, still suffering from my blow. “You can’t get out.”

His voice is getting closer, and I desperately move my gaze around the space where I see an exit sign with only the E lit up. I run toward it, though it’s like being in a dream where my legs don’t work. Where I can’t run fast enough. I’m feeling heavy… spent… my mind moving far faster than my body.