Page 53 of Ash Storm

Reka

On the dais, Reka swallowed, struggling not to throw up.

Moments earlier, her biggest concern had been the little rocks digging into her feet. It was hard to remember that discomfort now, after she’d just watched Ash—if that was even his real name—snap a man’s neck in cold blood.

She couldn’t see the corpse anymore, since all of Afsan’s guests had moved closer to the mat, but she knew he was there.

She stifled a scream and averted her gaze.

And then the smoke appeared, from two different directions. It smelled of sulfur, like the stink bombs of her youth, but she knew this was no stink bomb. Her eyes burned.

Afsan’s guests leaped away from the smoke and into each other, looking less like men and more like overgrown headless chickens.

Only Afsan’s guards remained calm. Three of them surrounded the women, pulling them off the dais and rounding them up like sheep. The rest of the guards ran towards Afsan.

And Reka knew she’d never have another chance like this. She grabbed Chloe’s hand and tore away from the group—only to run smack into a wall.

Not a wall.

A thick, muscled chest.

Reka’s heart skipped a beat.

Ash grabbed her and Chloe and pushed them both ahead of him, directly into the smoke. He seemed to know where he was going.

The ridiculous thought struck her, that they were being kidnapped once again.

And she knew this man was dangerous. She’d just seen him kill another man.

But he’d also promised to get them out of here.

“This way,” he said urgently. “Stay in front of me.”

Chloe stumbled and cried out. There was another man in front of them now—she recognized the green-eyed man in the elegant navy suit. He pointed a gun in their direction, then shot at something or somebody behind them.

Cover fire.

He’s laying cover fire for us.

“To the wall!” Ash said, shouting to make himself heard.

Reka saw it then—somebody had pulled over a hand ladder for them.

They have help outside.

That cemented the decision for her. She nodded quickly, turning to Ash—just as someone slammed into his side. It was the Turkish fighter, the one who’d taken one of the other girls the previous night. He hadn’t been gentle. Reka had seen the bruises on the girl’s neck and arms when she’d been brought back to the room.

“Keep running,” Ash grunted to her, leaping to his feet and placing his body between her and Chloe and the Turkish fighter. “Get out of our way, Gezi,” he said, baring his teeth.

The fighter—Gezi—shook his head. “You’re trying to steal his women. Afsan will pay me much more than a million dollars now.”

The two men circled each other like wolves. And Reka noticed small details—that Ash was limping, and that the other man had a dagger in his hand.

She hesitated for an instant.

“Go!” Ash shouted, and that instant of inattention was the moment the other man had been looking for. He struck, the dagger held in front of him.

Ash sidestepped the dagger and raised his knee, pulling the other man’s head down onto it. The Turkish fighter howled. Blood spurted from his ruined nose.