More glass crunching.
Someone runs up behind the guy and gets him in a rear naked choke—one arm around pulled across the neck and restricting his airflow—while the second hand rips the gun away and throws it to the floor before aiding in the choke with a powerful torque. Despite my impaired visibility, the skill in the technique is clear as day. Two moves and the thug was disabled. The newcomer knows his stuff.
After twenty seconds, the thug collapses to the floor.
“Miles,” I mutter the moment I get a good look at him. I don’t think I’ve ever found the man quite so fucking attractive. He walked over and knocked that guy out without a second’s hesitation. It gets my blood going.
Miles jogs to me, the hallway a mild obstacle course of bodies at this point, and he grabs my shoulder. “Have you found them?”
I back up into the room. Lacy runs into her brother’s arms the moment he rounds the corner. The siblings share a tight embrace, and I turn away, not wanting to intrude on their moment.
“Miles, I knew you’d come,” Lacy says, practically breathless.
“Of course. Always.”
Shannon sits against the wall in the same position I saw her last. I shuffle over and motion for her to stand, though I doubt she sees.
“Get up,” I command. “We need to leave.”
She doesn’t move.
Fuck. Now isn’t the time for this.
I bend down and scoop her up into my arms, my shoulder burning in protest. I half stumble forward, and I almost go face-first into the wall, but I catch myself and keep her close. She struggles for a moment, like she doesn’t want to be taken from this place.
“I’m getting you out of here,” I growl.
I hear a stifled sob and then nothing. Shannon quiets herself and goes still. I walk with her back to Miles. She’s not heavy, but my body isn’t in perfect shape.
“Hurry,” Miles says, urgency in his tone and movements. He picks up Lacy and leads us out the way I came, to the front door. I’m slow, but I know where I’m going. When we reach the glass front doors, I get a good look outside. At least ten guys are there, prepping the semitruck. Miles backs up into me, keeping us on the border of the darkness and just out of sight.
“We need to go out the back,” he says.
I turn around and follow him through the medical building, avoiding the hallway we littered with unconscious goons.
We don’t have much time. The guy I hit and the guy Miles choked out will both wake up soon, I’m sure of it. When we reach the long hall to the back, Miles once again freezes. More guys are waiting at the back exit, at least six of them. They smoke and exchange small talk.
Miles turns around and pushes me down another hall.
I’m lost now. Miles is the one running things. I follow him as best I can.
We reach some sort of side door exit, and he throws it open without a second thought. We step outside—into a shadowed alleyway between the retirement home and the paramedic building—and I see the lights of cars at both ends. Lowlifes mill about the parking lot and the back area of the building, blocking both our exits. What’re we going to do now? We’re out in the open and carrying two little girls. It’s only a matter of time before we’re caught.
Miles rushes over to the retirement home. He stops in front of a side door and motions me with a jerk of his head. I walk over but step in front of the door, blocking the handle.
“What’re you doing?” I ask, incredulous. “We can’t go in there!”
“It’s our only option. The place is huge. We could hide, or find another way out.”
“No. There are more guys in here than the dispatch center.”
“What else are we going to do?”
Damn. This plan reeks of uncertainty. But there are goons everywhere. Lacy and Miles stare at me as though I need to ultimately decide. I curse under my breath and step out of the way. I guess we’re going into the retirement home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE DOOR shuts behind us, cutting off all moonlight.
Darkness.
Shannon shudders against me and takes in ragged breaths. My shoulder burns, and I kneel to set her down, but she tightens her grip and refuses to let go.
“You’re okay,” I tell her, trying to be gentle. My gruff voice isn’t built for it.
“Nobody came for me,” she replies, her words so distant they could belong to a ghost. “Nobody….”
“What’re you talking about, girl? I’m right here. Miles and I came for you.”
“You came for Lacy! I’m not… not….” Shannon’s voice cracks, and she presses her face into my jacket. After another ragged breath, she continues, “Nobody…. They don’t want me. Nobody cares.”
Miles sets Lacy down. “We really don’t have time for this. I’m going to look around and—”
“Don’t go far,” I command. “We’ll end up shooting each other if you get out of sight. There are too many variables here.”
Through the gloom I can hear him exhale and run a hand across his neck. “Okay. I’ll stay close. But we need to hurry. I don’t want to get caught in a firefight.”
I don’t want Miles to leave. I don’t want him to get more than a few feet away, if possible. He’s my only real companion here—the one I trust—the one I’m most concerned with. Even separating to search the emergency dispatch center got me nervous.
But Miles walks a few feet around the retirement home, in the nearby area, and I strain my ears to make sure he’s nearby. This place is cold and dreary. The open echo of Miles’s steps tells me we’re in
