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I reach back and grab my dress, pressing it to the back of his head where I see the blood coming from. I shake my head at him. “You buffoon, you should have let me hit the ground instead of trying to catch me. You could have been seriously hurt.”
“If I’d let you hit the ground, you would have been seriously hurt.”
“I don’t understand you. You say I deserve to die for what I’ve done, and yet, you refuse to let me die when I should.”
“You can’t die until I get all of your secrets.” That’s what his mouth says, but his body says, I can’t let you die until I have you. Until you’re screaming my name. Until I’ve claimed you as mine in every way.
“Well, you can’t die until we find a way out of here.”
He smiles.
“How are you feeling?”
“I have a headache, but otherwise, I’m fine.”
I scowl as I crawl to his back to take a look at his head wound. I remove the dress. “There’s blood, but it doesn’t look too deep.”
I tie the dress around his head to apply pressure, but I think he’s going to be fine.
“Here,” Langston says, holding out the jacket to me. It’s only then I realize I’m only wearing a bra and panties.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the jacket back and putting it back on before zipping it up. I’m a little reluctant to put it on as I’m enjoying Langston’s gaze, but he needs to focus on healing, not eye-fucking my body.
I sigh. “Now what? I don’t see any other way out other than that window.”
We both lean our heads against the wall. “Now, we wait for whoever is holding us to show themselves and their intentions. Then we try to find their weakness and exploit it.”
I nod. I know it’s our only option, but it doesn’t sound like a good option. “Who do you think is holding us?”
Langston shrugs. “Someone after the treasure.”
The window at the top opens, and a gun is aimed down at us.
“Liesel, get behind me,” Langston says as we both scramble to our feet.
“No, we fight this together.” If anything, I plan on jumping in front of him to take a bullet. He needs to stay alive more than I do.
“Liesel,” Langston warns. His voice says he’s going to kill me if I don’t do exactly as he says, but that warning has never stopped me before.
A bullet rains down on us—we both move. We should be diving out of the way, trying to duck for cover, but that’s not how we move. We both lunge toward each other, trying to take the bullet to save the other.
That’s the problem with Langston and me—we can pretend we hate each other, that we are enemies all we want, but in reality, we care about each other more than we’ll ever say. Our actions speak louder than any words.
We both fall to the ground.
I look down at my torso. I haven’t been hit.
“Langston,” I whisper. He’s taken all the injuries, while I’ve endured none. If he got shot, I’m not sure he’ll have enough blood or strength to make it out of this cell.
I roll him over onto his back so I can examine him. His eyes are closed, but he’s breathing. My hands race over his body, looking for the injury. I spot it in his neck. It’s not a bullet—it’s a dart.
I glance back up at the window just as another dart is shot—this time at me. I squeeze Langston’s hand as the dart hits my arm. My eyes grow heavy quickly, and my breathing slows.
We’re about to meet our captors, but I can’t think straight. All I can focus on is holding Langston’s hand as I collapse on top of him.
11
Langston
