Page 105 of Stolen Faith

Rowan looked up and saw her.

“One, two, three,” she said.

On three, he rolled, and she jammed the towel against the bottom of the door. Rowan had used a thick book to create a doorstop, but she managed to tuck the towel around that, jamming it under the door with frantic fingers. Once done, she threw herself to the side, not wanting to be in front of the door. The men on the other side were still shouting orders, making demands.

She turned to Rowan, who was sitting with his back against the wall, grimacing, one arm wrapped over his middle, cradling his ribs. He’d obviously aggravated his previous injuries, and she suspected that if the ribs hadn’t been broken before, they were now.

“Come on.” She tugged at him. “We have to get away from here.”

“No, need to…” He shifted and winced. “Shit, I might have done more damage diving like that.”

Oh God, what if he’d punctured a lung? What if he was bleeding internally?

“Please, Rowan!”

She looked over to where Juliette and Devon stood, Devon talking quickly into the phone he held to his ear.

“We need to call 9-1-1,” Izabel said.

Devon looked at her, frowned, and shook his head.

What the fuck? Enough was enough. They needed help. Now.

“Rowan is hurt!” she hissed.

Brennon looked up at her words, released Jonah, and headed toward them.

The pounding on the other side of the door was practically deafening, and the fear that suddenly choked her was hard to think through.

Brennon helped her get Rowan to his feet.

“Sounds like Barry did something right for once,” Jonah said, voice barely audible to Izabel. “You thought we were trapped, but you’re the ones who’re trapped.”

Barry started twitching. His lashes fluttering. Fuck. He couldn’t have stayed out a little while longer. Izabel looked at Brennon. Neither of them was exactly in great shape, but Devon, Rowan, and Juliette were all hurt. If it came down to a fight of some kind…

“Open up,” a deep voice commanded. “This is your final warning.”

Jonah tipped his head back against the chair, eyes half closed like a man who was ready to take a nap. “You want to know the truth?” He was looking at Juliette.

Juliette raised her chin, staring down at him.

Jonah started to whisper something, too low for Izabel to hear. TiffaniGrace leaned forward, as if straining to hear too, though she was much closer.

Juliette’s gaze never left Jonah’s face, but his grin grew with each word.

“Break it down,” a voice in the hall said. Then louder, “Stand away from the door.”

Izabel tugged on Brennon and Rowan’s arms. “We have to go.”

With Rowan between them, Izabel and Brennon retreated to the heavy desk, circling around behind it. Rowan slid gingerly into the chair. “Down,” he said. “The two of you need to get down. Under the desk. They may come in shooting.”

“Rowan…” Izabel hated the way her voice trembled.

“Down,” he ordered.

Brennon pulled her down, forcing her into the footwell, putting his body between hers and the opening.

The door boomed.

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