Page 62 of Ruthless Commander
God, please be alive.
I closed the door to Mateo's bedroom and pulled out some clothes that Rhys had packed for me as my phone flashed, the battery icon red and almost empty. But as I searched the suitcase, I realized he'd forgotten one critical thing, my phone charger. “Shit.”
I moved closer to the door and cracked it open, listening to the deep, heavy breaths coming from Rhys on the sofa. He was tired, beyond exhausted, like the rest of us. But I needed him to be rested, and I could be quick, hurry to the building, grab my phone charger from next to the bed, and be back before he even knew I was gone.
The heavy snore that came from the living room made up my mind. I opened the door wider and slipped out, hurried across the apartment, and quietly slipped the card from the kitchen counter as I made for the front door. I barely made a sound as I eased open the door and stepped out, scanning the corridor of the building before I made my way along the hallway and headed for the automatic doors.
I couldn't see anyone, the place was eerily silent, and I didn't like it. A brutal gust of wind hit me as the doors shuddered and shook as they slowly opened, forcing me to lower my head and drive myself into the wind. Each step was a battle as I drove myself forward. By the time I got to the other side of the main building, my eyes were watering from the wind.
I pressed my card against the scanner then lunged for the doors as they barely slid open, and pushed inside. My breaths were just heavy gasps and my ears were roaring as I lifted my gaze to the elevator. I hurried, each beat of my heart like a ticking time bomb in my chest, and punched the button for the elevator, waiting for it to open before I stepped inside.
I shivered, chilled to the core as I rose. In my head, I was already snatching the charger from the nightstand, until the lights in the elevator flickered, sending a surge of panic through me. I jerked my gaze up, whispering a sigh of relief as I came to a stop and the doors opened.
Mumbled, erratic cries came from the other Evan’s bedroom. I jerked my gaze toward the sound and stepped quietly as I moved toward bedroom. All I needed was a few minutes, then I'd be gone before she even knew I was here. But the moment I cut across the living room the lights flickered above me once more, then plunged into darkness.
A scream ripped through the apartment and for a second, I forgot how dangerous she was and lunged forward, tearing along the hallway to her room. "Evan!" I screamed and smashed my fist on her door.
But her screams continued in the dark, and on the other side of the door something terrifying was unleashed. I dropped my shoulder, and lunged, throwing myself against the door. I didn't care about the agony, or the danger. In that moment, all I thought about was Kat, she was somewhere out there, just as terrified. It was her screams I heard in my head, her terror I felt booming inside me as I slammed my body against the door once more. "Evan! It's me, Xael!”
One more hard shove and the door flew inward. The psychotic Evan spun, her eyes wide. Even in the dark, I saw her and I knew something was very wrong. She raked her nails down her face. "No…no! You betrayed me…YOU BETRAYED ME!”
I lunged, grabbed her hands, and dragged them down.“Hey!”I roared, shaking her.
Something hit the floor, white, plastic. The container bounced as a streak of lightning flared across the sky, illuminating the room. I bent and picked it up. It was a bottle of pills, and even though I knew what Mateo and the other woman who said she was the real Evan had said, still, deep down there was a part of me that hadn’t understood or believed…
Until now. “Sophie Harrison?” I read from the label, then met her gaze. “Who the hell is that?”
“No one,” she roared, lunging to snatch it from my hands.“Don’t touch things that don’t belong to you!”
It was true…everything they'd said…it was all true.
The thought took flight right before the neon glow of the lightning was gone…and she attacked.
I was hit hard, knocked sideways and slammed into the wall. She was gone in a blur of movement, tearing through the darkness to leave me floundering.
“What the fuck…” the words were a gasp as theboomof the stairwell door resounded through the apartment, making me jump.
My world swayed, blurring under the thunderous pounding of my heart. I hadn’t wanted to believe them…hadn’t wanted to think someone like this…Sophiecould do something like that. Who the fuck would kill someone in cold blood and steal their identity?
Someone dangerous…
That’s who.
I inched upright on the wall, then shoved away and left her room behind. I hurried to my room in the dark, grabbed my charger and cord, and waited. I couldn’t take the elevator and the stairwell was fucking terrifying. Still, I clutched my charger and cord and crept closer, cracking open the stairwell door and listening before I stepped into the pitch-black gloom and reached out, groping for the railing and praying I didn’t hit anything warm, waiting…and deadly.
26
Mateo
Lights sparkled, growing brighter as the boat neared, the engine roaring under the strain. I gripped the railing on the dock, steadying myself as the wind howled across the water and slammed against the island. But it was more than the cyclone bearing down on us that made my gut clench, and that savage need to lash out rise inside me, it was him… The man about to descend on the island.
In the hours since I'd spoken with Haelstrom Hale, I'd done some digging into who the man was, and I didn't like what I'd found. It seemed he and Sebastian VanHalen were quite the buddies, so much so that they'd decided to make the journey from the US to the island together.
They were the kind of friends who were a matter of convenience, sick, twisted convenience, and no doubt they were here to make sure that convenience continued…and I still had Damon Zakharov to contend with.
The sniveling, pathetic excuse for a man roared louder the closer his buddy, Hale, came to the island. I’d had just about enough of his ranting about how Hale would be the end of this island. I released my hold and straightened as the boat turned and nosed toward the dock, then glanced at the man standing next to the captain.
Rich or not…money does not make the man.
