Page 34

The instant Kensley shut the bathroom door, he reconsidered his plan.

He had no idea if there was a camera in the bathroom.

Until now, it hadn’t occurred to him that they might not even have this small privacy.

He had to risk it, though, and stall for as long as possible.

Give whoever had sent that gun a chance to get in position.

He pressed his ear to the door and counted to sixty, ticking each minute off on his fingers.

He counted to sixteen minutes and twenty-three seconds when he faintly heard the first buzzer.

Kensley grabbed the doorknob, nerves sizzling, heart slamming into his ribs.

This had to be it. His instincts screamed this was the moment.

When the second buzzer for their door rang, Kensley opened the bathroom door. The dumbwaiter was immediately to his left and the farthest point in the room from the front door.

The instant Sadist entered the apartment, Kensley retreated to the dumbwaiter, prepared to reach for the hidden gun, once he’d properly assessed the situation. Sadist clocked them both, his face wrinkled with something besides boredom or calm. He was almost agitated.

“Our timetable to relocate has moved up, Kensley,” Sadist said. “Let’s go.”

He hadn’t included Malori in that statement. “Where are we going? Is Malori coming?”

“The Omega is going somewhere he won’t suffer much longer.”

As soon as Sadist’s hand slipped behind his back, Kensley reached into the dumbwaiter.

Yanked out the bundle and tore the fabric from around the gun.

Prayed the safety was off, because he didn’t know anything beyond point and pull the trigger.

He raised his gun and followed the sight to Sadist, who’d pulled a larger gun on Malori.

With no time to clock Malori’s reaction, Kensley aimed at Sadist’s chest, curled his finger around the trigger, and pulled.

Two loud noises filled the room, one after the other.

Kensley yelped when the gun jerked in his hands, his ears ringing from the report.

Sadist sprawled to the ground in a heap.

Malori was huddled on the floor beside his chair, head pressed to his pulled-up knees, shaking.

Kensley looked from Malori to Sadist, to the open door and what appeared to be a small lobby beyond it.

No one else rushed into the room, guns blazing.

Copying what he’d seen in a movie once, he leveled his gun at Sadist and took careful steps forward, expecting the man to sit up and fire at him.

The second bang had to have come from Sadist’s gun, which was still loosely gripped in the man’s right hand

Heart in his throat, Kensley used his foot to kick the gun away. Sadist didn’t stir. He lay on his right side, head angled toward the door, and a small puddle of blood was oozing from beneath his jacket. “Malori?” Kensley asked, unsurprised his voice was shaking.

“Is he dead?” Malori’s broken voice was barely audible over the pounding of Kensley’s heart.

“I don’t know.” He nudged Sadist’s leg with his foot, gun never wavering from the asshole’s face. No reaction.

Malori appeared beside Kensley, quiet as a ghost. Kensley didn’t take his eyes off Sadist, not even when Malori pried the gun out of Kensley’s hand.

Held it straight out. Kensley shouted when Malori pulled the trigger three times in a row, each round hitting Sadist somewhere in the chest and neck, splattering blood into the air.

“Holy shit,” Kensley wheezed. “Damn.”

Malori aimed once more and shot Sadist in the groin. “It’s not enough, you sick fuck.”

“Um, I think he’s dead now.”

“Maybe.” Malori shot again, and Kensley looked away from the carnage. The next time, the chamber clicked. Six rounds spent. Malori tossed the gun at Sadist, then lurched toward Kensley.

In a flash of panic, Kensley thought Malori was attacking him. Then he spotted the blood on Malori’s shirt, darkening the tan fabric on his left shoulder. “Oh shit, Malori! He shot you.”

“Shot him back.”

“Yeah, you did. We need to get out of here.”

“How did you get a gun?”

“Someone left it for me in the dumbwaiter.”

“Huh?”

“My brother must be here.” Kensley looped Malori’s right arm around his shoulders, paused a moment to pick up Sadist’s gun, and then headed for the door.

He had no idea what was on the other side, but he wasn’t surprised to find a plain foyer and an elevator with only a down button.

An elevator that was moving up, based on the noise behind the sliding doors.

“Back, back.” Kensley retreated into the apartment, just in case, and stashed his friend behind the couch. Malori was turning white and starting to breathe hard, but he was alert. Kensley knelt at the end of the couch and aimed his weapon at the open apartment door.

The first buzzer sounded, which he knew now was the elevator arriving. Kensley wrapped his finger around the trigger and held his breath, ready to shoot if he didn’t recognize whoever stepped through that door. His and Malori’s lives depended on it.

Footsteps shuffled. Voices murmured. Kensley’s pulse spiked.

A bitter taste filled his mouth. Someone spoke and the noise stopped.

Had they noticed Sadist’s dead body inside the apartment?

Kensley’s brain spun with possibilities, everything from a friendly face, to a barrage of fire from Sadist’s minions.

“My charus!”

Kensley’s hand jerked and he nearly fired the gun. “Bishop! I’m here!”

Bishop made the most miraculous entrance in the world, dressed in all black, both hands bracing his own gun as he strode inside the apartment. He glanced down at Sadist briefly. “Kens?”

Kensley lowered his gun as he stood, his entire body reacting to Bishop’s proximity.

At seeing his charus in the flesh, very much alive, his eyes blazing with intensity.

Six days apart was too much, and Kensley didn’t think.

He threw himself at Bishop, who caught him with a single arm around the waist, never lowering that gun as he continued to survey the room.

“It’s just me and Malori, no one else,” Kensley said.

“Clear!” Bishop shouted.

Three men in black flooded the room, guns raised, and they began to search.

The fourth man to enter made Kensley’s heart kick hard.

King commanded the room with his presence, even more so after fourteen years.

Time had put lines around his eyes and a few flecks of gray at his temples, but that was his brother.

King’s relieved smile melted quickly into annoyance when he saw the body on the ground. “Is that Decker?” he asked.

“Looks like it, based on our surveillance photos,” Bishop replied. He finally wrapped his other arm around Kensley and squeezed the life out of him. Kensley pressed his face into Bishop’s neck and held on, fighting tears. Tears could wait until they were out of this horrific place.

“Man down,” someone said. “Gunshot wound to the shoulder.”

“His name’s Malori,” Kensley said. “He’s been here a long time. Please, help him.”

“We will, sweetheart,” Bishop replied, his heart thumping so hard Kensley felt it in his own chest. “I wanted to kill Decker myself for daring to touch you.”

“I’m okay. Just get me out of here.”

“Gladly.” Bishop holstered his gun, then swept Kensley up into his arms. Kensley didn’t protest being carried.

He never wanted to leave Bishop’s arms again, and he clung to his charus as they piled into the elevator.

He opened his eyes long enough to make sure Malori was with them, and he startled at the surprising sight of King cradling Malori in his arms, while Malori sobbed into King’s neck.

They were finally free, Malori most of all.