Page 30 of Twisted Revelations

15

Laura

The firm hand placed over my mouth stopped my sharp intake of breath. In the dead of night, my mind took a moment to process the urgent actions unfolding as my body went into fight mode.

The blinking digital numbers on the bedside clock flashed 01:52. Was I ever going to get more than two hours of sleep?

“Get up. Put your clothes on as fast as you can,” Dax ordered, his words rushed. “We have unwanted company on the way.” The unmistakable sound of a bullet being primed highlighted his words.

The lamp on the table between our beds spilled the only light into the room. Dax stood at the window covered by the blackout curtains and peeked out. We had the rear view from the building, nothing but the top of the parking garage and a tight alley below that separated us from the backs of more high-rise buildings.

The first thing I grabbed was the gun I’d tucked under the edge of the mattress for situations like this and just in case Dax decided to get out of hand. I paused when I noticed a silencer had been attached. My lips twitched into a smile until I remembered that we were about to face a possible attack.

There was no time for modesty. I tugged off the T-shirt I’d been sleeping in and rummaged through my backpack for a top. My shorts went zipping down my legs, and I went for the fresh pair of jeans I’d taken out with the shirt. When I sensed eyes on me, I glanced over my shoulder into the stunned face of Dax.

Gun in hand, mouth agape; he made no attempt to hide his gawking. His gaze raked over my ass wrapped in silky blue panties before they trailed down my legs and back up. I didn’t have time to start an argument, so I ignored him and continued my task.

“How do you know we have company?” I inquired as I shoved my first leg into my pants.

His gaze remained on my ass as I hurriedly dressed. “D caught them on camera. They found a way through hotel security and obtained a key and code to the elevator. We obviously underestimated their abilities.”

“Three minutes,” Dax revealed. The finger below his earlobe revealed that he and D were communicating. D carried enough tech gear to have his own convention, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. However, I was impressed with the level of sophistication these men were revealing. Gun in hand and at the ready, I followed Dax out of the door.

Bev and D were already at the front door. Seeing a gun in Bev’s hand stalled my anxious movements, but given that we were on a cartel hit list, it was necessary. D directed her to the dining room area and had her lie, prone behind the thick wooden table.

“If it’s not me, D, or Beverly, shoot them. Aim for the head or heart,” Dax whispered to me in the same commanding tone as D had to Beverly. The rules of engagement were simple: shoot to kill.

“Got it,” I answered as I glanced back at Bev’s location. “We are not going to let anything happen to either of you,” Dax confirmed, his words sounding like a promise.

He led me in the opposite direction, standing me between the two walls that formed a nook that led to the large common area bathroom. With his gaze on mine, he lowered his hand in a gesture for me to stay low.

Once he’d positioned me with the walls as my protection, I peeked out at his retreating back. His movement was as silent as the night as he took up the post closest to the front door. Nothing but the door when it opened would keep him from being spotted, and it bothered me that I couldn’t see Beverly or D from my area.

When the room went black from Dax flipping off the lights, I tucked myself into place and raised my gun. The open blinds illuminated the area and showcased the dark view, letting in the moonlight and the busy sparkle of the city outside.

“Twenty seconds,” a faint whisper sounded, and I couldn’t tell if it was D or Dax. How many were there and how had they found us? My rapid thoughts would not be answered. It was two of the many questions I hadn’t had time to ask Dax.

The whine of the keycard reader was followed by a click and a double beep. They must have assumed we were sleeping. The silence that filled the interior of the large space pressed down on me—the quiet before the storm.

My heart pounded, sensing the presence of danger before the door squeaked open at a lingering pace, followed by a loud thump. Was that a body hitting the floor or my heart beating away at my chest cavity?

I peeked. The door continued to widen, and the light from the hall crept across the floor. Two shadowy figures entered the living room, their identities protected by the darkness they faced.

Their guns were aimed in opposite directions as they headed further with caution. They wore full head-to-toe tactical gear like law enforcement, proving that we weren’t dealing with run-of-the-mill amateurs.

Where the hell was Dax?He was no longer at the door. My anxiety kicked up a notch when one approached the area near Beverly’s location, and the other proceeded in my direction. Two more followed and were trailed by another.

The fifth man sprang into alert mode, scanning every direction. When four more came charging in, my anxiety imploded and my nerves caught fire. Four would have evened the odds, but nine was a complication. The last man closed and locked the door behind him, drenching the room in moonlit darkness.

Were D and Dax as good as the résumé I’d been building on them suggested? We were locked inside a penthouse with nine well-armed and determined killers. Men who had enough resources to track us down and find their way into a secured top-floor penthouse in a building I’d started to think was impenetrable.

At the first sound of gunfire, my finger automatically touched my trigger. The silenced gun taps weren’t that silent inside the suite. At least four shots were fired, the sounds coming from every direction. No sooner than I peeked around the wall than all hell broke loose. Muzzle flashes from weapons, tracer rounds traveling across the space like fireworks, and the unmistakable sound of a fight in progress drew me from my hole.

I ducked, dodging a fist that had come flying toward my head. Dax was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with one of the killers. He was doing some type of martial arts, more skills he possessed I was discovering in the heat of battle.

When the bad guy’s gun went skidding across the floor, I picked it up and dashed in Beverly’s direction. My right foot snagged a lifeless body in my haste, making me stumble to the floor. The large couch shielded me from the kitchen and dining area.

A guttural moan drew my attention. The man Dax had fought was on the floor, but he wasn’t dead as he crawled toward a fallen bottle of wine from the bar to use as a weapon.

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