Me.
Shit, I curse, stepping away from the window. The modestly sized room holds no other escape.
I’m trapped.
My body is still swathed in Damien’s shirt. It’s long enough to reach my mid-thighs. The sleeves are longer than the tips of my fingers. It’s modest enough for anyone but Callum would lose his mind if he saw me wearing another man’s clothes.
Heavy footsteps sound outside the doors. From the shouts and curses filtering into the room, I can tell they’re fighting. I jump as gunshots ricochet off the wall facing the corridor.
My heart pounds heavily. Fear chokes my throat. They’ll find me here any moment now and drag me back to Callum.
The doorknob twists, drawing all my attention to it.
My heart seems to leap into my throat, throbbing hard as I wait for those men to find me. As much as I resent the way Damien and his brothers treat me, I don’t want them to get hurt. A part of me still cares about them despite the horrors they unleashed on me.
I’ve loved them for so long, it’s hard to switch off those feelings in a matter of a few days.
The door is suddenly thrown open. Damien stands at the threshold, his wild eyes roaming the room until they find me.
Relief spreads through me at once.
I only have a moment’s reprieve as Damien whips around, blocking an attack from a man who’d sneaked up behind him. A dagger flashes in his hand as he stabs the man with neat, precise strokes.
His attacker slides to the floor, bleeding out as Damien stands over him.
More men in black attire swarm all around him.
“Give us the girl,” one of them demands in a low, threatening voice.
Damien scoffs. “She’s right there,” he says with a backward glance at me. “Go get her.”
The three men in the front march forward. They brandish their guns at him, their gazes, dark and merciless.
Terror flows through me. Blood pounds in my ears.
There’s no way Damien stands a chance against these armed men.
Damien bends his knees slightly, two long, slim daggers appearing in his hands.
Shock and wonder flicker through the dense haze of fear choking me. Damien is either brave or suicidal. How can he stand up to these men with guns? No matter how well he can fight, he has no chance against flying bullets.
“Don’t do this,” I whisper. “It’s okay to let me go.”
“No one takes what belongs to me,” he says without a backward glance. “Now, shut up and stand back.”
“Callum will never stop attacking you until he has me,” I warn. “If you want to protect your family, you should let me go.”
“I’m going to shove my cock in your mouth if you don’t shut up right now,” he growls threateningly.
The men raise their guns. Within those moments, Damien leaps forward, his daggers flashing like the wings of a steel butterfly as he stabs the men before they can aim and shoot.
The three men fall to the floor with loud thuds before they can wrap their fingers around the trigger. Rivulets of blood stream over the pristine white marble floor, slowly snaking toward me.
The three men die within a matter of seconds. Just how much blood is Damien willing to shed to protect me?
Without stopping, Damien attacks the rest of the men filling up the corridor. Gunshots and cries of shock and pain erupt outside the room, sending spikes of terror through me.
The sane part of my mind insists I stay back in the room. Going out into the corridor would put me in the path of the bullets flying in every direction.