Page 101 of A Twisted Arrangement

“You didn’t have to do this,” I cry at him, even after he stops moving.

I scramble off his stiff body, using my hands behind me as I crawl away. I need to calm down so I can figure out what the hell is happening.

What are the facts?

Fact: Oliver tried to kill me.

Fact: I killed him instead.

My heart starts to calm as I remind myself that he didn’t succeed. That it’s him lying in his pool of blood, not us. I replaythe situation, trying to pick it apart. He made it sound like he’d changed his plan from taking me somewhere to killing me when I told him I’m pregnant. Take me where? This goes way beyond just wanting a position in the Order of Saints. They must know when I married Matthias there was no claiming the Laurent seat, no matter what happened.

I think through the last fifteen minutes, step by step, from the second I left the bathroom. What had he been doing when I told him I was pregnant? I thought he’d been texting Matthias, but… I have to get out of here.

I force myself up, my legs unsteady beneath me, catching my weight on the wall. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping me going. I need to find somewhere to hide. I have to trust that Matthias will come find me. I can’t believe I’m actually grateful for this freaking tracker.

I crack the door open, peeking through the narrow gap to check out the hall. So far, I still have time to get out of here. The elevator opens just as the room locks shut behind me and out steps the same man who’d ridden in the elevator with us earlier.

A sneer curls his mouth. “Looks like you’ve caused a bit of trouble.”

I don’t bother glancing down, knowing he’s referring to the blood now soaking through my clothes.

“Don’t come near me.” I realize my mistake immediately. How could I have left the gun? I’d been so thrown off by killing Oliver that I forgot something so basic, so fundamental.

The stranger holds the elevator open. “Now, come with me, and you won’t have to get hurt.”

My muscles charge with electricity, and my brain screams at me that if I want to survive, I need to run.

I throw the bloody shard at him and don’t wait to see if it hits its mark. All that matters is I get out of here and away from himlong enough for Matthias to find me. Because he will. I just need to stay alive.

I crash through the exit door and take the stairs three at a time, using the handrail as my last Hail Mary to stop me from plummeting face-first. Footsteps thunder behind me, chasing me down. Acid burns in my quads, begging me to slow my pace, but I push through. I can’t give up now. Being caught is a death sentence.

If I can just get downstairs where there are people… I round the bottom set of stairs and slam through the exit door. A cry breaks from my throat when I exit onto the rear street instead of the road. All I can do is keep going. I fight back tears, desperate to get to safety.

A car door opens in front of me, and I skid to a stop. My feet burn from the rough ground.

A man steps out, a sneer across his lips. “Well, isn’t this convenient? I thought we’d have to hunt you down, but here you are.”

“Leave me alone?—”

A large hand clamps down around my mouth before I can say anything else and pins my arms to my sides, preventing me from reaching for my knife. I kick out, slamming my heel against my attacker’s shin, wishing I still wore my shoes. Their spike would’ve taken a chunk out of them.

The man in front of me says, “Now, now. Don’t go hurting yourself. Boss won’t be happy.”

He steps to the side, opening the rear door. “Bringing you in catches a pretty penny. So just be a good girl and get in the car.”

I can’t go in there. Every true crime documentary says it’ll be worse at the second location. They aren’t moving you for the fun of it. The alley is eerily quiet.

Clearly, I’m on my own to figure this out. I struggle against the hold, slamming my head back, wishing I was tall enough to connect my skull with his face.

The man in front of me tsks. “It’s unfortunate you’re going to be like that. We’ll have to do it the hard way.”

I’m lifted off my feet, arms crushing the wind out of me, then shoved into the trunk of their car.

The second my back connects with steel, I kick out, trying to stop it from closing, but it’s too late. The lid clicks into place.

I feel like I’m choking, acid crawling up my throat as everything that’s happening slams into me. I’m not getting out of here.

The car pulls out, and my entire body vibrates and bounces off the hard walls that only have a thin felt separating me from the sharp metal. My bruised skin is the least of my problems right now.

---