Page 113 of Redemption

Everyone cheered in silence. Even the bitchy lady smiled.

Quickly, Victoria ducked down and ran to the key that hung on a chain from a nail. She paused long enough where the men kept their stash of cigarettes and lighters to take the cheap disposable and give it a flick to make sure the flame would jump. Then she made her way to the door of their prison cage and came back inside.

“Ready to help me out?” she asked Rosalie.

“Your leg’s bleeding.”

“Is that going to keep you from boosting me to the window?”

Rosalie knotted her fingers together. “Let’s go.”

A minute later, Victoria used Rosalie’s hand as a step stool, and Rosalie pushed her into the air. She caught the ledge, dangling to make sure it would hold her. After the last ordeal with the gutter, she felt less trusting. She swung her leg over to push off and reach up to the window. It was on an axle, and she was able to push halfway out and decided that jumping was going to hurt like hell but was the only escape. She ducked in for a quick second. “Give me a minute for the distraction.”

“Which is what?” the bitchy lady asked.

Victoria had no idea, but it likely had something to do with the lighter she’d just snagged. “You’ll know.”

“I’ll let you know,” Rosalie told the bitchy lady in a tone that was a shade nicer than shut the hell up. She beamed, maybe on her own adrenaline high. “I always knew cheerleading would come in handy one day. I just didn’t know it might save my life.”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

“Boss,” Colin interrupted as Brock almost finished ordering the operation a go. “Requesting additional assessment now.”

“Hold up,” Parker said on top of Colin.

“What in the bloody hell…” Ryder narrowed his eyes into his scope then grabbed his binoculars, tightening the focus. The night-vision-green image of a nightmare was taking place, and he threw them down, getting behind his trigger in case Victoria needed cover. Russians and Mayhem were going to be there within minutes. She wasn’t just going to need cover. She needed an escape plan.

“Is your girl hanging out a goddamn window?” Locke questioned. “Parker, we might need info on the closest medical facility. Victoria’s going to break her damn leg.”

“Victoria’s going to be filled with bullet holes if we can’t get to her—”

“Javier, shut your face,” Ryder snapped.

“Truth, dude.”

“Three minutes for expected arrival,” Parker added.

“Which one?” Ryder asked.

“Both.”

“Awesome,” Colin said.

“Luke, Trace, change of plans,” Brock directed. “Northwest side of the building. HRT is on the move. Colin, get to Grayson. No one’s alone.”

“She’s going to do it,” Javier whispered.

Ryder switched back to his binoculars. Collectively, they stopped and watched for the seconds it took Victoria to drop the meters and crumple onto a parking lot.

Get up. Get up!

“She knocked out?” Trace asked.

Then she curled into a ball, pushing up. “No. She’s good.”

Damn it to hell.He loved that she wanted to save herself, but if she could just have given them a few more minutes, maybe she wouldn’t have a shattered femur or something. Then again, she was smart. Maybe she had clued into signs that the Russian and MC deal had gone bad.

“We’re on the move,” Luke reported.

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