Page 70 of Ruined By the Enemy
And for one split second—just a millisecond—I forget what dragged me here like a madwoman.
“What happened?”
“I—” The words jam in my throat as the horror rushes back in full force: the honey-colored building, the voices I recognized too late, the realization of who they were after.
“I—” I stammer again, the panic catching in my chest. My voice shakes, weak and breathless. “They’re here to kill you. They’re going to kill you.”
His expression hardens. “Who?”
He glances past me, shoulders tense, then back. “What is going on, Sophie?”
I swallow hard, trying to force my brain to cooperate with my mouth, but the words knot in my throat. My pulse thuds in my ears. Then I hear footsteps echoing down the hallway.
I act before I can think. I shove him backward into the apartment and slam the door shut behind us, hands flying to the locks.
“What is going on?” he says again, louder now, but I don’t answer. I can’t.
Dom reaches for me, trying to anchor me, but I shove his hands off, lunging for the last bolt at the bottom. It scrapes loudly as I lock it in place. There aren’t enough locks. It doesn’t feel like enough.
“Come,” I gasp, grabbing his hand with trembling fingers, already scanning the room for someplace to hide. My mind’s spinning. Too fast.
But he doesn’t move. Instead, he pulls me back, his grip tight around my wrist.
“Stop,” he says, gentle but firm. “Take a breath, Sophie.”
“No,” I choke out, shaking my head violently as a fresh wave of fear crashes over me. My voice is raw now, pitched higher, trembling with urgency. “No. There’s no time to breathe, Dom.”
I clutch his arm. “They’re coming. I heard them. I heard them talking. They’re going to kill you, Dom.”
His eyes sharpen when the words leave my mouth, and he doesn’t ask more questions. “Stay behind me,” he says, already moving.
Dom releases my wrist and bolts down the hall toward his bedroom. I follow him on instinct, heart in my throat, every step echoing like thunder.
“Close the door,” he says. As I do, gunshots ring out. Two of them.
I freeze, my breath caught between flight and fight. Dom curses under his breath as he yanks open a drawer and grabs a black pistol, sliding the magazine in with muscle memory.
A gun? I don’t remember him bringing one. Or having one.
“They’re in the building,” he says as he faces me, holding the gun steady while I’m losing my mind on the inside.
Then the sound of the front door slamming down crashes through the apartment. It’s metal against tile, sharp and violent.
Dom turns and grabs me by the waist as I jump, pulling me to the walk-in closet. “Get in,” he orders. “Now.”
I start to, when I remember what they said.It’s him they’re after, notme.
“No.” I shake my head, finding courage out of the blue. “There are three of them and one of you. You need me.”
His gaze darkens with a warning. “No offense, but you’ll only get in my way. Stay there and call the cops.”
“They’ve paid them off.” I hate the words as they leave my mouth, because they emphasize how truly fucked we are.
His expression muddles with confusion as his gun lowers. “They’ve paid off the police? You heard them say that?
I nod. “Yeah. Let me help you,” I offer again. “I’m good with a gun,” I add when he hesitates, knowing he must have another stashed somewhere. “If for no other reason, let me be able to protect myself.
A muscle twitches in his jaw, but there’s no time to deliberate when another shot rings out.They were planning to do it quietly,but something must’ve spooked them.
