The latch held—for now.
I realized I was in a janitor’s closet. There were shelves of cleaning supplies and mops. And tightly rolled mats used for wrestling? Why were they here?
“Is that really important right now, Lucas?” I whispered to myself.
I grabbed the metal mop handle leaning in the corner and jammed it tight between the door handle and the floor, angling it so it couldn’t slip. Then I dragged a rolled wrestling mat over and shoved it against the base of the door, wedging it in place.
The frame shuddered as bodies piled into it.
I looked at the inhaler in my hand.
The thought of Grace in that chair, barely pulling in air, made it clear in my mind that I had to get back.
And this door wouldn’t hold for long anyway.
Fuck it. I was Lucas fucking Rowen, and I wouldn’t go down like this.
And for some insane reason, I thought of Taryn. Of never seeing her again.
That would give the little brat too much satisfaction.
I glanced down at my exposed arms. Way too much skin showing.
Grabbing another folded mat from the stack, I ripped at the vinyl seam until it split, tearing off two thick strips. I wrapped one around my left forearm, then the other, pulling them tight enough to stay in place.
Not perfect, but better than nothing.
I yanked a roll of duct tape from the shelf and wound it over the padding, binding it down, then grabbed a pair of heavy cleaning gloves and shoved my hands into them.
My heart pounded against my ribs.
“Okay,” I muttered and took a deep breath.
I yanked the mat aside, kicked the mop handle free, twisted the lock, and ripped the door open just long enough to dive through the gap—the first one slammed into me. I swung the extinguisher, felt it connect, and shoved through the gap before the others could close it.
Run.
Now, noise didn’t matter.
Footsteps dragged behind me.
Something snarled.
A locker banged shut.
I hit the lounge door at a sprint and overshot the son of a bitchagain. I grabbed the frame and wrenched it open just wide enough to slip through.
Hands grabbed me and pulled me in.
The door slammed, and I heard the lock click.
Several things hit the other side less than a heartbeat later.
Hard.
Everyone froze.
The wire-glass window rattled.
