Chapter Six

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Next to her, Angelo let out a surprised yell.

She glanced over her shoulder.

For the second time that day, she stared at him holding a gun. And she knew that in her next intake of breath, he would shoot her last chance at a secure future.

"This is for Gabrielle," Ben said.

She jumped up. A scream shot from her mouth, ringing in her ears, and then a black nothingness erupted before her eyes.

Ben gripped her chin and turned up her head. He stared with hard eyes down at her, his face ghostly white. "Can you get up?" he asked, and then his gaze shifted on something behind her.

Great, she'd fainted.

She turned, the movement making her catch her breath. she found Mr. Fuentes lying on the thick carpet, a hole punctured in his shoulder. Blood bloomed like a flower on his white dress shirt. Yet, she thought she saw his chest rising and falling, ever so slowly.

Not dead.

A phone rang in the silence, and then she heard Ben saying, "Thanks, Drake."

"Who is Drake?"

Strong fingers dug into the flesh of her forearm, making her wince.

"Did you work for the Writer?"

"Who is the Writer?"

He yanked her to her feet, grabbing the book from the table with his other hand, and dragged her after him. "Move, we can't stay here."

Anger crawled its way to the surface of her mind, numbing the throbbing pain in her head. "You shot him! He needs an ambulance," she said, grounding her heels into the floor.

"Don't care," he replied. "Walk."

She did, didn't know how not to obey him. When they left the room and entered the hall, she jabbed her elbow into the glass of the fire alarm enclosure and pulled the lever. A siren broke the silence, making her want to cover her ears.

"That was stupid," he pressed through his teeth, pulling her close to his face, and for the first time since she met him he scared her. "Do you want to get us killed?"

"He needs an ambulance!"

"He's fine."

"He's not!"

He swore. "It wasn't a shot to kill, just to take him out for now."

"I want an explanation." She wouldn't let him drag her off as if she had done something wrong.

"Later." He wound his fingers into her hair, the expression in his eyes changing, when he leaned closer still and brushed his mouth over her lips.

"In a few moments, this place will be swarming with his thugs. What do you think they'll do to you when they find you here?"

She bit her lip, feeling every hard ridge of him pressing into her while her head was throbbing, and remembered Mr. Fuentes cold-eyed bodyguard. What would he do if he found her next to the shot hotel owner?

Ben gave her a small shake. "I don't want anything happening to you. So, honey, I'm going to get your sweet ass safely out of this hotel now, understood?"

He accepted her silence as agreement and wound his fingers through hers. He pulled her toward the fire exit and through two heavy steel doors.

Above the sound of the siren, she heard voices and footsteps as hotel guests, mindful not to use the elevator, filed into the concrete staircase leading out of the hotel.

A Stranger's Touch  --  Wattys2015Where stories live. Discover now