I glared back defiantly. I’d let him have me—but I wouldn’t invite him.
If he wanted to fuck me, he’d have to come and take me.
The terrible moment hung in the air. The space sizzled. I hung suspended between two possible outcomes: he’d force the issue and rip my clothes off and fuck me like an animal, or he’d back down and leave me wishing I’d only said the stupid words.
I tilted my chin up. I parted my lips, licked my tongue along my teeth. I was inviting him. I was seducing him.
Come on, you bastard. Come on and fuck me. Come and take me. Make it hurt. Make me scream.
Outside, shouts cut through the moment.
Calvin’s hand loosened. He looked toward the door, face hardening.
I wanted to reach out. I wanted to pull him back. He was so close to giving me what I really wanted, even if I couldn’t admit it out loud. We were inches away—
More shouting. Angry shouts. Then a bang ripped the air, and Calvin released me.
“Grab your bag,” he barked, running to the door, and I was left shaking, trembling, and terrified, as another gunshot screamed deadly fire.
10
Robyn
Calvin grabbed our things. He threw me a backpack as Matthias burst into the room.
“They’re coming for you,” he said, panic in his eyes.
Calvin took a gun from the nightstand, checked the magazine, and cocked back the slide. “Are the men ready?”
“They’re holding the end of the hallway.”
“Escape route?”
“We’re working on it.”
Calvin nodded and gestured at me. “Make sure she’s safe.” He started toward the door. More gunshots burst out in the hallways and there was shouting, most of it indistinct, but some of it was in the local language.
“Wait,” I said before Calvin could leave. “What the hell is going on?”
Mattias moved to my side as I stepped toward Calvin, my hand outstretched like I could do anything in this situation.
I was powerless and weak. Calvin looked deadly calm, and that scared me most of all.
“Brnovich,” Calvin said, as if that explained everything.
I wanted to demand more, but he was already moving into the hall. More gunfire erupted. I waited for a scream, but there was nothing.
Mattias took my arm. “Crazy fucking bastard,” he muttered, glaring at the door, breathing hard. He looked down at me like he’d never seen me before. “Are you ready?”
“Ready for what? I don’t even know what’s happening.”
“Our host is trying to kill us and we’re about to run out into a hallway littered with bullets.”
“Fuck,” I said as he pulled me to the door. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“That’s about my feelings,” Mattias said. “When I say run, you run. Go right and straight ahead. Understand?”
“Wait, hold on.” I struggled against his grip. “Is Calvin okay?”
Sweat dripped down Matthias’s forehead. “You should be more worried about yourself. If anyone can survive this, it’s him. Now, are you ready?”
“Definitely not.”
“Run.”
He yanked me into the hallway. More shouts followed, then gunfire. I felt something hot zip over my shoulder, inches from my ear, like a bug moving at supersonic speed. More gunfire answered, more screaming. I staggered, slipped on something wet—red paint?—then started running again. Matthias dragged me as we staggered toward a door at the far end.
Calvin was there. He walked toward me, gun held out. He fired shots off, aiming at someone over my shoulder. I flinched, but he looked like an avenging angel, like a god from myth come down from Mount Olympus to mete out justice. His lips curled in a sneer as he fired, fired, fired, and Matthias dragged me past Calvin and into an open stairwell.
I stumbled and almost fell, but strong hands caught my hips.
“You’re okay.” Calvin pulled me against him. “You’re not hurt.”
I stared at him and wanted to scream.
More men spilled into the stairway. Men in body armor and carrying big guns. Some of them were injured, but most were okay.
One crouched next to Matthias. “Sir, we’re holding them.”
“Take your team forward and clear the way. We’re going out the back and to the vehicles.”
“Sir.” The soldier gestured and took several more men with him. They barreled forward while we waited.
Calvin glared over his shoulder. More shouts, more gunshots, then a few more soldiers trickled into the stairwell. Matthias waited before making a signal, and Calvin took my arm and dragged me down the steps with him, following after the first group of soldiers.
At the bottom of the steps, two staff members stepped out from a doorway. One held a mop, the other held a bucket. The dropped their cleaning implements and threw their hands in the air. Calvin nearly blew their skulls to pieces, but left them with a growl.
“Fucking trap,” he said as he pushed down a hall and into the kitchens. The soldiers were ahead, checking a back door. More gunshots, but they were distant. “This whole thing was a trap.”