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Not even bothering to uncuff my other wrist, the Aryan stood. “Get up.”
I took my time climbing to my feet just to piss him off. It worked. I was halfway up to standing when he grabbed my arm, yanked me up the rest of the way, and forced me to get walking. With a bruising grip on my arm, he steered me toward the hall, which held three doors. The Aryan pushed me through the closest.
The state of the small bathroom was horrific. The smell of urine that filled my nose was potent enough to gag on. The Aryan flipped on the light and three cockroaches that had been hanging out in the sink dashed for the drain. Brown stains covered the walls and the inside of the toilet was black. At this stage of disgusting, it wasn’t worth cleaning. Just burn it down and start over.
The Aryan shoved me further into the tiny room until he could shut the door behind him. He released me to fold his arms over his chest and watched me expectantly.
I kept my expression unfazed as I unbuttoned my jeans and shoved them down to hover over the toilet. There was no way in hell I’d sit on it. As I relieved myself, I planned, I prepared. After I was finished, I stood, and as I pulled up my pants, I gave my back to the Aryan as if wanting privacy. What I was really doing was hiding my hand that was still cuffed. I quickly buttoned my jeans and then wrapped the unlocked side of the cuffs around my knuckles and fisted my hand.
“Are you finished?” he snarled.
I let out a little sniffle and hunched my shoulders.
“Tears won’t get you anywhere.” His hand came down on my shoulder and yanked to turn me around.
As I spun, I threw my fist out. The metal of the cuff curved over my fingers collided with his eye. He let out a grunt as his head jerked backward. I swung at him again, hitting him in his jaw. He fell back against the door and began sliding to the floor. He landed on one knee and reached behind his back, leaving his middle exposed. I kicked him in the stomach as he pulled a Glock from behind him. He hunched forward with his gun pointed aimlessly. Moving quickly, I grabbed the wrist of his gun hand and slammed it down on the rim of the sink repeatedly. I felt something crunch beneath his skin and he let out a scream. The gun flew from his hand and almost landed in the toilet. I barely heard it thud on the floor over my own heart pounding in my ears.
I released his wrist to punch him over and over again in the face, cutting open his skin with the metal cuff each time. I couldn’t stop. Not for a moment. Not even when my own skin on my knuckles began to break open more and more after each blow. I couldn’t risk letting him get the upper hand. I was rabid with the need to kill.
He tried to put his arms up to stop me, so I kneed him in the sternum. He dropped his arms and I grabbed the back of his head. Using all my strength, I slammed his head down onto the sink once. As I tried to bring his head down again, he twisted his body and jabbed out his fist.
The blow met my stomach. All the air seemed to leave my lungs with that hit, but I didn’t let him go. I fisted his hair and yanked his head to the side before punching him in the ear.
He let out a roar, but it was cut off as I shoved his head down onto the top of my knee.
Three months.
For three fucking months I had trained for this. As soon as I’d felt healed enough, I’d had my goons help me brush up on the self-defense skills I had learned as a teenager. I hadn’t just sat on my ass waiting to take out the Aryans. No. I’d trained right alongside Brenna for this moment.
The Aryan fell face-down on the ground. I straddled his back and slid my arm around his neck. With a secure hold, I squeezed. Like Tina had when I had cut off her air with Tom’s tie, the Aryan came to and began to struggle under me. He tried to buck me off. When that didn’t work, he did a push-up and got his knee under him. Then he flung himself and me backward. My back hit the door. If there was pain, I didn’t feel it. All that mattered was that I didn’t let him go or loosen the pressure around his neck.
He thrashed and dug his nails into my arm. “You’re going to die,” I forced out. “All of you are.”
He eventually went limp, but thateventuallyfelt like forever. The entire time, my heart pounded in my chest painfully, I’d had to suck in air between clenched teeth, and I prayed the strength in my arms held out for another moment, then another, and another.
I shoved his body off me with weak, spaghetti-feeling arms. All of me shook as I panted, the sound echoing in the small room. I only gave myself a minute to catch my breath before I reached around the side of the toilet where the gun had dropped. I ejected the magazine and was relieved to find it full. I reloaded the Glock and began patting down the dead Aryan. I found his phone in his back pocket. I stared down at it. It was my chance at escape. All it would take was one phone call. However, with that one phone call I’d find out if Louie was alive or dead.
I squeezed the phone in my hand.Not yet.
Outside of the bathroom, the sound of a door slamming followed by a male voice drew my focus. I stuffed the phone in my pocket. Gun held out in front of me, I opened the door and slowly stepped out of the bathroom. No one was in sight.
Bedrooms or living room?I debated on which to check first. Because the male voice I had heard from before had sounded like it had come from the living room, I headed in that direction. I crept down the hall, my heart booming a handful of times between each step I took.
As I was about to enter the living room, the front door opened. Another one of Buck’s lackeys walked in. I aimed for his head and pulled the trigger. The sound of the gun rang loudly as the bullet hit its mark. Blood sprayed from the opposite side of his head, splattering on the apartment wall. Amelia let out a scream, and as the Aryan began to fall, another stepped into the apartment behind him. I aimed at him next, but as I pulled the trigger, I was tackled from behind. My shot went wide, missing its target.
Shit!
I was barely on the ground for a breath before I was rolled over and came face-to-face with Buck. His brown eyes were filled with violent rage. “You stupid bitch,” he seethed as his hand rose.
I caught his forearm before he could strike me and went to point the gun at him. He caught my wrist before I could.
Thinking quickly, because I knew he had the ability to overpower me, I brought my knee up between his legs, nailing him in the balls. He grunted, falling forward a little. With him closer, I jerked my head up and bashed it into his nose. I heard a satisfying crunch followed by his roar. Blood dripped onto my face and neck. I didn’t have time to care. I let go of his forearm to punch him in his already-broken nose.
He fell off me with a groan. Rolling over, I climbed as far as my knees before fingers fisted my hair and I was pulled the rest of the way to my feet. The moment I was standing, I got a glimpse of the other Aryan and his fist before it slammed into my cheek.
Pain took over one side of my face as I fell back against the hall wall. The world was spinning too much for me to catch my bearings fast enough. I heard the floor creak. It was the only warning I got that the Aryan was about to attack.
A large, calloused hand wrapped around my throat. The Aryan shoved me by my neck against the wall hard enough to cut off my breath. I lifted the gun to point it at him, but he caught me by my wrist. Like I’d done to his fellow Aryan, he slammed my hand against the wall, trying to knock the gun out of my grasp. Unless I wanted a shattered hand, I had to let go of it. I dropped it and he released my wrist to squeeze my neck with both hands.
