Page 90 of Fury

It always ended up that way, didn’t it?

Could she . . . reach something? Maybe from the desk. Blinking around her tears, she eyed the table . . . papers there. The desk below the wall of TV screens. Shoot! Nothing to use. The grating claxon hammered her head, made it ache. From the hall came the thuds and screams of people running. It was going to be the last thing she ever heard. How depressing was that?

No. She wasn’t a quitter. Never had been. But what on earth could she do? She rotated herself around the column, again searching for something to help her break the zip ties. She bobbed in frustration, desperate to be free.

She was not dying like this!

“God, please!!”

Wait wait wait . . .

Her knife.

Leila’s guards had taken it off her once they got inside the room. With more focus this time, she shimmied around the column, searching the table and desk. Recalled hearing it clatter against a surface. She prayed it was still here.

Not on the desk. Or the table. Defeat punched her in the gut.

Of course it wouldn’t be. They wouldn’t have left?—

A glint snagged her attention. She sucked in a breath and strained to see by the chair in front of the screens. There! It’d fallen. And thank God, because they’d have probably pocketed it.

“Thank You!” she cried.

Without wasting a second, Hollyn lowered herself to the ground. Stretched out on her stomach. Reached with her toe toward the chair. Inched closer to the beacon of hope. Screams and thuds pounded the hall. Thankfully, no smoke filtered under the door yet, but that might not mean much.

Her shoe connected with the blade. She sucked in a breath. Applied pressure and tried to drag it backward. The sole of her shoe slid over the blade. With a grunt, she tried again. Lengthened her body out as long as she could be and felt the sting of the zip ties digging into her flesh. Failed again.

Thumping her head against the column, she cried. It was useless. She was useless. She’d been right—she would die alone. Those she loved always . . . left. One way or another.

“It’ll be okay, Hol.”Davis’s words played in her head. Gave her an iota of strength to build on. She had to believe that. It wasn’t over till it was over.

Growling into the pain, Hollyn stretched . . . stretched. Pinned the hilt this time. Slowly, firmly drew the toe of her shoe toward herself. The knife surrendered. Exultant, she had to force herself to stay calm, keep the blade coming closer. Once she got it close enough, she hiked onto her knees. Angled awkwardly to get the knife even closer. Then she stood and nudged it to the column. Again, shimmied around and went back to her knees, grasping the blade. Relief rushed through her, and she took a moment to let herself shudder a few tears.

Okay. “Now for step two.” She winced as she slowly, carefully manipulated her hold on the knife so she could saw through the ties. One wrong twitch and she could lose control of her only chance at escape.

Carefully—so carefully—she tried to work it into a solid grip but couldn’t get the right angle. Man, her head was throbbing from that stupid alarm. With the lack of smoke, she was starting to wonder if someone had pulled it on purpose.

Worry about that later. Refocus.

“Come on,” she muttered.

Finally! Had the knife firmly in hand. She positioned the blade under the zip ties—fingers trembling—and started to saw. When she glanced up, she froze. Squinted for a better look at one of the video feeds. Was that . . .

Davis! And Fury!

A relieved whimper scampered up her throat. But where were they? She realized then she didn’t even know where the feeds were coming from. But by the look of the laminate stairs and the sea of people fleeing in the opposite direction, Davis was here. In this building!

“Davis!” she screamed. Oh my gosh. They were here! Looking for her. She wasn’t alone. Hollyn watched them jog up a flight and then another, Benn and Glace close behind. Just the sight of them gave her confidence that she’d be rescued.

So happy, she nearly lost her hold on the knife. Barely recovered. “Focus!” she told herself as she started rubbing the blade along the plastic as best she could. Which wasn’t great considering the only angle she could get made it difficult to apply much pressure. But it was a start. She’d take it.

Hollyn kept an eye on Davis. He and Fury would disappear from one security camera just to appear in another. Then the miracle came—she saw him stalking down a hall . . . and heard heavy footfalls. A keening. In the hall.

“Help!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, even though the fire alarm masked most of her voice. “Davis!Help! I’m here!”

18

GOLDEN TOWERS, ABU DHABI, UAE

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