Page 89 of Chokehold
I run up the stairway before I’m thrown to the side by someone tackling into my ribs, knocking me onto the ground. They get to their feet, and I grab their ankle so they fall. I crawl over them, groaning when I see long blonde hair. I tug off the black mask to see some chick nearly crying beneath me.
“They have bats, and one has a gun,” she cries. “Please help me.”
“Go hide,” I snarl and drag us both off the ground. “Stay out of sight.”
She nods erratically and runs down the hallway. I brush my hands through my hair, sweat clinging to my skin as I look left and right. One of them has a gun? What the fuck?
And bats.
Blaise.
I rush down the staircase, then down again to the ground floor, tripping over someone lying unconscious on the ground. They’re covered in blood, gasping for breath. I don’t breathe until I yank off the mask and see it’s not Blaise. One of the guys from college. He’s in Blaise’s business class. He’s just busted up, not dying.
Turning a corner, I stop in the dining area to see Jackson and Allie. He’s bending her over the table and fucking her from behind, grabbing her hair and holding the barrel of the gun to her temple. Three others are behind him. As if they’re waiting for their turn.
In another world, I’d get jealous and run at him. I’d rip him off my ex and beat the living shit out of him. But instead, I back away, let her get the railing she obviously wants.
Bypassing the downstairs bathroom, I see someone running, but they have brown hair down their back, so I know it isn’t Blaise.
Another runner, and I shake my head. Where the fuck is he?
I shove open a door and the fist that snaps into my face knocks me back on my ass, momentarily dazed as the person crouches through my blurry vision.
He slides off the mask, tousled hair falling on his forehead.
“Cole?” I think he says, going by the way his lips move. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He grabs my arm and drags me into the room, slamming the door shut. Crouching again, he slaps my face so I focus.
I blink away the haziness and scowl at him.
“You fucking hit me,” I grit.
I want to yell at him, but I pause at the blood on his face, the busted-up lip and swollen eye.
“Who the fuck did that?”
“It doesn’t matter. Why are you here? How did you get in?”
“Mia,” I say, breathless from running around the house for the last half an hour. “She called me. She knows I love you.”
Blaise goes to speak, and his lips slam shut. His brows furrow.
“I must’ve hit you pretty hard,” he laughs. “What’s the plan, then? One has a gun and the others have weapons, and I don’t think this is a case of runners and chasers. This is serious.”
But we’re out of time, because there’s a bang on the door, and we know we’ve been caught when Jackson’s voice faintly filters through the wood, even over the ear-bursting music.
“Keith says he’s in here.”
“The window,” I say, nodding to it. “We’re on the ground floor.”
Blaise doesn’t hesitate to grab the hardest object and launch it at the window, just as something hits against the door. Luckily, the door doesn’t crack the way the window blows out.
I tell Blaise to go out first, and he flinches when his palm cuts on the glass. He jumps down, and when I go to climb out, thedoor is kicked open, and someone snatches my hair and yanks me back in.
“Wait, no, that’s Cole!” Allie cries over the music, just as a bat swings into my gut and winds me. “Don’t hurt him!”
Blaise can’t get back in. Although we’re on the ground floor, there’s still a jump to the grass from the window, and I can’t hear him over the music if he’s saying shit.
