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“They’re right here,” I shout back, attempting to pry the doors open. I smack my palm against them when they don’t budge.
“I can’t open them.” I hold my hands out, looking down the gap to where Rylie stands.
“I’m not fitting through that.” He frowns. “I’ll give you something to help you open them, but you have to promise you’ll tell someone I’m down here.”
“What do you have?” I look over the black suit he’s wearing. There’s no way he’s hiding something on him.
“You better not fuck me over.” Gritting his teeth, he turns and opens a panel under the buttons on the elevator wall. There’s a fire extinguisher and a small axe. “Promise me you’ll get help,” he demands.
“Promise.” My tone is solid, believable. He holds up the hatchet, and I lean into the hole to grip it. Snatching my wrist, he almost tugs me back inside. “Rylie,” I warn, my breathing ragged. I attempt to steady myself with my free hand, but he’s strong.
“I have a family. Don’t leave me here if this place is on fire.”
“I won’t.”
He releases me, and I shove away from the hole, getting to my feet. Taking a couple calming breaths, I adjust my grip on the hatchet and jam the blade into the crease of the doors, pushing all my weight into the handle. Metal creaks and groans, and suddenly, the doors give way. “It’s working.” Relief pours into my veins.
“Keep going.”
I throw more of my weight into the handle, and it wedges open enough for me to get my hands through. Placing the hatchet down, I pry with my hands, forcing the space to become big enough for me to fit through. Picking the weapon back up, I squeeze through the doors.
“Lily.” Zane’s relieved voice coats me in a cloak of joy. He’s soaking wet, his tee clinging to him, showing his toned physique beneath.
“You’re both dead,” Ronaldo spits, smacking his fist on the desk from his chair. Zane aims his gun at him, and I shake my head and raise the hatchet, launching it toward Ronaldo. Zane darts out of the way and it lands with a thud in Ronaldo’s chest, his chair scooting a few inches back. His eyebrows raise. His eyes spring wide, mouth drops open. Blood leaks from his lips as his head lulls.
“Lily?” Rylie’s voice echoes through the gap in the doors as Zane rushes toward me, grabs the back of my head with his palm, and slams his mouth to mine. Rough and full of need, I cling to him, tangling my tongue with his, tasting him.
Pulling away, he grins. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Lily…” Rylie calls again. “Lily!”
“Who is that?” Zane frowns, trying to see through the space.
“No one. Let’s go.”
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
ZANE/CHAOS
Flashing lights illuminate the sky as we exit the club. Fire trucks and cop cars are parked out front. Crowds of people fill the parking lot, making it easy for Lily and me to blend in as we maneuver our way to my truck.
“Sprinkler system works,” Lily points out, a wild spark in her eyes. A pink tinge warms her cheeks as she beams a smile.
God, she’s beautiful.
“Honestly, I expected someone to put it out with a fire extinguisher.” The fire was completely out by the time we passed through the club, but the water damage is going to be far worse.
“Look,” Lilly murmurs. I follow her gaze, my brow furrowing. A cop is attempting to stop cars from leaving. Fuck. We’re not going to get out of here in the truck. Opening the door, I grab my blade from the glovebox and shove it in my boot.
“Come on.” Taking her hand, we walk to the back of the club where more people are scattered. A set of double doors are wide open, a staircase leading down into Bare Flesh. It would be easy for anyone being held down there to escape. Kelly was never forced to work here. Leo was either fed lies or conjured them up himself.
“There.” Lily jerks her arm to a path cutting through a hedge. Picking up our pace until we’re jogging, we take the route, coming out on a sidewalk.
“Dammit,” she hisses, checking her foot.
“Take my boots.”
“No.” She shakes her head and carries on walking barefoot.
