Page 63 of Wicked and Bound

Absently, she thought about opening that drawer in which Nash had shoved the little bit of clothing she’d been given and the potential devices she might need to survive. She’d gotten used to being naked nearly all the time, and when Nash was in the room, she felt fine. Safe. Desired and adored. Now that he was across the compound and potentially in danger? She felt vulnerable and exposed. Like a sitting duck. The feeling wasn’t rational. A slip of a dress, a gun, and a phone wouldn’t do muchif Gray and his minions marched in…but she still felt compelled to be as prepared as possible, just in case.

But the minute she withdrew those devices, security would know she was armed. Surely they’d perceive that as a threat and come running. Then what?

Haisley was still trying to decide if the precaution was worth the risk when an explosion rocked the island—and their suite.

She gasped. Froze. Nash hadn’t mentioned explosions. Had something gone wrong? She’d expected pandemonium while they took down the scum running this island, but…so early in the evening? Nash hadn’t shared plans of the raid with her, but she’d gotten the impression it would go down after the auction, somewhere near dawn—not in the middle of it.

Her windows rattled. Crystal glasses tumbled from the bar cart. Haisley stumbled as she raced to the window. She braced on the adjoining seat as another blast followed, closer this time. Her heart slammed against her ribs.

Something had gone wrong. She felt it in her bones.

Acrid smoke drifted up and past the windows. Beyond the glass, fires raged on the east side of the island, licking at the supply docks. People ran across the grounds, their shouts muffled by distance and thick hurricane-proof windows. Red emergency lights began flashing in the hallway, visible through the crack beneath the door.

Nash.

Her chest constricted with fear. The two years she’d spent without him had been hell, but at least she’d known he was alive somewhere out there. The thought of losing him completely, of existing in a world where he didn’t… She couldn’t bear it. She’d been fooling herself in Cali, pretending she was just fine without him. But she’d been lying. She had never stopped loving him. She knew now she never would.

Would she ever see him again?

The power flickered, then died, plunging the suite into darkness broken only by moonlight and those hellish red emergency strobes. Down the hall, doors slammed. Boots thundered against marble floors, growing closer.

They were coming. For her?

She pressed a protective hand to her still-flat belly. Hopefully, Nash was out there, fighting the good fight, and he’d come back to her and their baby. He wasn’t here to save them. He couldn’t be. She was going to have to do it herself.

In near pitch blackness, Haisley shimmied into her bra and panties, then raced to the dresser, yanking out one of the gauzy silk slips they’d provided and pulled it over her head. The fabric clung to her curves like water, but at least she wasn’t naked anymore. Beneath the negligees she found what she really needed.

She grabbed the burner phone, tucking it into her bra since the slip had no pockets. Then her fingers closed around cool metal—the Glock Nash had left her. The weight felt foreign in her hand. She pushed aside her discomfort. She could do this. She had to. After all, she’d been shooting a few times, mostly because Nash had taken her out and taught her, but that had been years ago.

She wracked her brain to remember how to handle the weapon. Fingers trembling, she racked a round, vaguely trying to remember if Glocks had a safety. It was too dark to see, and she didn’t have time to look. She’d have to carry the gun carefully.

A loud click in the relative silence told her someone had unlocked the door to the suite—and she doubted it was Nash.

That meant she was no longer alone.

Her heart leapt in her throat. Adrenaline pumped, making her body weak-kneed and hyper-aware as she scanned the suite in the dark, looking for somewhere to hide. But this place wasdesigned for luxury and comfort during long-term stays, not tactical defenses.

With her options limited, she darted into the bathroom and eased the door mostly closed, hoping she wasn’t making a fatal mistake. Through the gap, she had a clear view of the entry, so she crouched, watching and waiting.

Seconds later, the main door swung open. Dr. Haynes strode in, flanked by two armed guards. Her white coat gleamed eerily in the red emergency lighting flooding in from the hall. The doctor scanned the room with cold efficiency.

Why were they here? Maybe they intended to round up all the women in the tower to use them as hostages and human shields against EM Security’s raid. But if that was the case, why would the doctor be leading the search? Surely, she was too important to the Velvet Cove’s cause to be fetching all the women.

Through the crack, Haisley watched Dr. Haynes’s face harden. “Spread out. Find her. She’s our number-one target. Black Velvet wants her locked up in medical immediately.”

Black Velvet. The mastermind behind this nightmare wanted her first and foremost. Why?

“Check the closet,” the doctor ordered as she moved toward the rumpled bed and checked behind the curtains. “The bitch can’t have gone far.”

Haisley’s fingers tightened on the gun. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she weighed her options. She could try to shoot her way out, but the guards were heavily armed with scary assault-rifle style guns. One stray bullet and… Shaking, she pressed her hand to her abdomen again. She couldn’t risk it. Not with Nash’s baby—and their future—at stake.

She needed help.The phone!

Haisley just hoped that backup didn’t come too late.

Carefully, she retrieved the burner device from her bra. The screen lit up like a beacon in the darkness. Smothering a curse, she quickly dimmed it, then typed out a text to the only number stored in its memory:

Guards + doctor in suite. Armed. Help!

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