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I scream for her to stop, but she’s like a hellion on a mission. With precision, she throws her knife into the thigh of the guy who slashed Sasha’s throat.
“Alana,” I scream.
There’s so much pain in her cries, and I know that if I don’t act, it’ll consume her and get her killed.
No. I’m not losing her as well.
Rolling my shoulders back, I fist the chair leg harder, and join Alana, who’s now punching the guy responsible for Sasha’s death.
Aiming for his crotch, I swing the leg as hard as I can muster. I don’t get a chance to be pleased that he didn’t get out of my way in time. As soon as he drops to his knees, I grab Alana’s hand and run toward the door, throwing it open and into the guy smoking.
I know that surprise is the only reason they haven’t overpowered us yet, but I can’t focus on that now. I need to get us out of here.
“Sasha!” Alana’s guttural scream for her friend hurts my heart as I force her to follow me.
This time, it’s my nails digging into her skin, and I fucking refuse to let go.
“Come back,” one of the guys shouts, amusement lacing his words. “We were just getting started.”
“We don’t mind a chase,” another yells.
I don’t need to look behind me to know they’re hot on our tails, so I do the only thing I can think of. Picking up speed, I lead us back toward the main room, hoping against all hope that Gray and Rocco are still in there.
“Gray!” I scream as we’re nearer.
No reply.
“He’s not going to be able to help us,” Alana wheezes.
I shake my head, refusing to believe her words.
“We need to get to the trapdoor,” she reminds me.
Shaking my head again, I pick up the pace. We’re weaving through the carnage around us, and all I can think about is getting to Gray.
Just as the door’s in sight, Alana falls and I’m pulled back by the move. Within seconds, I’m on the floor next to her, still clutching her hand in mine.
The reason quickly becomes clear. She didn’t fucking fall. The guys finally caught up with us, one of them pulling her back.
“No,” she cries, kicking at them.
One of the guys laughs as he kicks her side so hard she curls in on herself. Before I can react, a hand reaches for me. The second he touches me, he wraps his beefy hand around my upper arm and pulls me to my feet.
“So, you’re the princess,” he sneers.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I retort.
Despite the bravado I try to exude, I’m a trembling, crying mess.
“Are you sure about that?” he asks, curious. “If you give us your real name, we’ll let your friend go.” He nods toward Alana, who’s still lying in a ball on the floor.
“I-I…” I stutter.
Fuck, I want to tell them just to get them away from Alana. But despite what my previous actions might suggest, I’m not stupid. If I tell them, they’ll have no reason to keep her alive.
Pressing my lips together, I shake my head.
“Suit yourself,” he growls.
