Page 58 of Serpent King's Revenge

"Can you tell me how you'd feel if this was the last thing you saw today?" I whispered, my tone shifting, the sugar gone, replaced by steel.

He frowned. “What?”

My hand shot out.

Fingers, trained to be both weapon and shield, wrapped around his wrist with the precision of years spent perfecting self-defense techniques. His skin was clammy under my grip, but I didn’t falter.

"Wha—?" The single syllable caught in his throat as I pivoted, twisting his arm just enough to elicit a sharp gasp. With my other hand, I dove for his belt, seizing the ring of keys with a swift yank.

"Sorry, Charlie." There was no time for pleasantries, no room for hesitation. I drove my fist into his face, feeling the crunch against my knuckles, an ugly sound that echoed off the walls. He stumbled back, more from shock than force, his eyes watering as he clutched at his nose.

"God, Abby! What the hell?" he spat out between groans, blood trickling down his lip.

"Nothing personal," I said, almost stepping over his crumpled form. “Neither is this.”

I brought my elbow down hard on the back of his neck, and he crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. His body hit the floor with a muffled thud, unconscious before he even realized what was happening.

I stood there for a moment, looking down at him, the image of a girl out of her depth replaced by a hardened federal agent. A wave of guilt washed over me, but I shook it off just as quickly. It was necessary, just part of the job.

He was alive. He would come to eventually.

Time to disappear before anyone noticed the shift change gone wrong.

I undressed him quickly and methodically, putting on his clothes and then locking him in the private room. I was the lynchpin in this–one of these keys led to the staff exit, and I had to get it through the riot and to Nathan and Knuckles.

Nathan should be moving through the kitchen right about now…around the riot, with any luck. Knuckles had said he would grab him, and Jack would meet us outside. Then, Alex would organize a getaway car.

This all had to go perfectly according to plan.

Then we could start figuring out what to do about Kenny.

The keys in my pocket felt like they weighed a ton as I walked down the hall, following the sound of shouting voices, screams, crashes. I could do this–I was a good fighter. I tucked my hair under the guard’s cap, squaring my shoulders.

“Alright, baby,” I muttered, rubbing my stomach, suddenly more afraid than I would’ve liked. “We’ve got this.”

I stepped into the mess hall…and then I was in the thick of it. Around me, the air was dense with shouts and the stench of sweat and anger, but I didn't stop to engage. I dodged flailing limbs and sidestepped brawlers, my pulse racing a relentless staccato against my ribs.

I cut around the edge of the riot, taser ready at my left hand, club at my right. I didn’t want to use them–it would draw more attention to me than I wanted–but I was a woman here and I couldn’t depend on Knuckles and Nathan getting me out of this. The riot was a beast, and I was in its belly, trying not to be digested. My heart pounded against my chest as if trying to escape the madness, my breaths short and uneven.

Then, like a lighthouse cutting through fog, I saw Nathan.

He was standing behind the buffet counter with Knuckles, the two of them fighting off other men. He seemed to see me at the same time I saw him, and then he was moving toward me, fists flying.

It seemed insane, but I’d never seen him fight–or, at least, I’d never seen him fight anyone else. We’d brawled in his house when he discovered my secret, of course, but beyond that…

I’d never seen him do this.

And he was glorious.

He turned and wove through the crowd, dropping people in a line toward me. When he got close enough, he extended his arm…and then he grasped mine, pulling me through. I stepped over prisoners, into his arms.

Safe. We were safe.

For now.

“We need to move,” he commanded.

I nodded. “I know.”

---