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I wrap my hand around the top of her belly and pull her inside, catching the movement in the treeline.
Fuck!
Scrambling for the closing door, she collapses into me, and ignoring her fight, I take a few steps into the dark house, dragging her with me while I recall the path that’s in my head.
“No! It’s too dark.”
Do not put her in the dark. Casper’s words flash through my head. He was explicitly adamant about that when I helped him with the bunker. She would rather fight in the light than be safe in the dark.
“I’ve got you. Stop fucking fighting me!”
If she feels threatened or bullied, she’ll resist every effort you make. Make it easy for yourself, talk her through it.
Nothing is easy with her. When I think that I’ve somehow gotten through to her…
“Let me go!”
I tuck her into the crook of my elbow as I reach for the gun I holstered only moments ago to pull her back to me. Still moving, I follow Casper’s advice.
“We’re being watched. I need you to calm down because I won’t let anything happen to you. Understand?”
Her tense body gives somewhat albeit her manic nod.
“Good. Now, I know it’s dark, but you know this place better than me. I’m going to need you to hide. Where’s the best place to hide, princess?”
She stiffens at the pet name, pushing away from me. “I need light.”
“No.”
“The shutters are closed, no one can see in, I need fucking light!” Fisting my sweatshirt, she tugs with frustration.
I contemplate what to do for a second, but we’re wasting time arguing about this. Time we don’t have.
“Back pocket,” I tell her, turning back to the door. The phone’s torch barely dims the darkness, but it seems enough to get her moving.
Following the shuffle of her footsteps, I keep my eyes on the door. Something’s not right.
Why aren’t they coming for us? Where there’s one, there’s more…
The thought strikes at the same time as the door cracks open. I manage to corner Fleur behind me as I shoot at the daylight, partially blinded with the long shadow beyond the doorway blurred over.
I keep shooting, counting each bullet that hits the tall figure walking towards us, each shot burrowing into their chest, rocking them back but not enough to stop them.
Shit.
“Ryan…”
I drop the Glock in my left hand, the magazine empty. It’s useless. Wrapping my arm behind me, I hold Fleur flush to my back. Shuffling sideways, I get us to the edge of the hallway.
“I charge, you run.” Covering her, I turn to give her room to move. “Go!”
There’s no time for me to take my eyes from our stalker in order to make sure she’s following my order. I work on the assumption that she’s doing as she’s told for once, and I charge.
Holding my weapon tight, I push up on the corner of a wall where the stone has worn and has enough surface area to launch off with a kick of my toes.
I take a deep breath, sucking in the air around me like it might give me more flight, and as I reach the peak of my jump, I find my aim. Hard, blue eyes pierce me with recognition from beneath the dark hood.
Staring at the barrel of the gun aimed right at me, I shoot. Instinctively. Without pause.
