***
What do you mean?'
The doctor's voice yanked me out of the memory. I blinked at him, slow and mocking, and murmured, 'You still don't get it? I was waiting for you to arrest me. That way you fed me details about your trade and your clients… and you marched me straight to Ashur so I could give him the code without a fuss.'
His eyes went wide. A jittery smile. A hard shake of his head. 'You're talking nonsense.'
'Nonsense?' I widened my eyes right back, baring my teeth. 'I've just sent the entire Lolitat client list to the Rose Organisation. Know what that means? Your business is finished. No clients, no sales. Did you forget your own lecture?'
I meant the day in his damned lab when he'd bragged about supply and profit.
Colour drained from his face. He stared at me—stunned, terrified—and for a heartbeat I forgot every ache and bruise, savouring the smallness of him.
'The shield in the corridor won't hold for long. We have to go.'
I turned. Ashur's dark eyes caught the light. My gaze dropped to his forearm—angry red—and to the split at the edge of his brow.
I sucked in a breath and looked back at the doctor. His face was tight; his pupils blown, wild. He knew it was over. No exits left.
'Let's kill this bastard before we leave,' I snarled through clenched teeth, still locked on his loathsome gaze.
Ashur laid a hand over my gun and pressed it down. His voice was flat, unyielding.
'If we kill him now, we w…won't make it o…one floor up. He's our insurance.'
He bent and hauled the doctor upright. The man grunted, doubling over with pain, and glared at me.
I leaned in, fingers digging into his neck. 'Fine. Then he'd better be useful. We free the girls he kidnapped—before we go.'
Something mean flickered in his eyes. He smirked. 'Don't tell me those girls matter to you. They're trash.'
I wanted to cut that smirk off his mouth and toss the flesh into acid. Hate boiled up; my teeth clicked; every muscle in my face pulled tight.
'Talk,' I hissed, tightening my grip on his throat, 'or I'll rip your tongue out.'
'We don't have t—time to lose,' Ashur snapped. 'In a cou—couple of minutes this place'll be k—knee-deep in brass.'
The doctor winked, almost pleased, and turned his sneer on me. 'We shipped those girls to Vietnam yesterday. You thought you could play hero? After the hundreds of bodies you've left behind? Including your friend… Esti—'
I slammed him back, fury twisting my face. 'Don't you say his name with that filthy mouth, you bastard!'
Ashur pressed his gun to the doctor's skull and, at the same time, yanked me backwards. I hit the wall hard.
His eyes—flat, cold—locked on mine, on all the hurt inside them. He growled, 'Seems you still can't control your feelings. Y—you'd b—better stop disobeying me.'
Dragging the doctor towards the door, he jerked his chin, his gun indicating I should open it.
I drew a steadying breath, tore my gaze off the doctor and eased the door open.
They were still firing at the glass outside, but the glass shield wouldn't hold much longer. It would give—soon.
With a nod from me, we slipped out of the room.
I limped towards the second lift, every step a bite of pain.
The glass was fracturing, spiderweb cracks racing across it; my heart hammered with a dangerous spike of adrenaline.
We were almost out of time. We had to reach the car park—fast.
As we moved, I ran through the plan I'd been sketching in the black hole at the back of my mind.
Ashur forced the lift doors apart—the power had been cut to trap us on this floor.
He shoved the doctor into a corner, stepped under the ceiling hatch and went to work on it.
The doctor's face twisted; he gave a breathy, pained laugh. 'You won't get out alive… They killed the lift power, and Union teams are waiting on every floor.'
His thin, hysterical giggles skittered around the hot, airless box.
Ashur wrenched the hatch free and dropped it—right onto the doctor's shins. His yelp dragged a nasty little smile out of me.
Ashur glanced up into the shaft and, without looking back, growled, 'D—do you have a plan… or not?'
The doctor sat grinning, teeth pink with blood, watching me like a lunatic.
I met his victorious stare and, tight with hate, said, 'Yeah.'
His face went blank. I turned to Ashur and rattled it off, fast. 'Back when I was an admin, I studied the building schematics. This lift's old—almost never used. The cables are rusted and worn… We're not far from the ground floor, and we've got enough rounds.'
Ashur cut me a sidelong look; something dangerous sparked in his black eyes.
His voice came rough, certain. 'Y—you did your homework.'
The doctor, clearly lost, scrubbed the blood from his mouth with his forearm. 'Are you planning to hide up there again?' He barked a laugh. 'You won't win this time.'
Ashur ignored him and stared at me.
I flicked a glance down the corridor—the glass shield was failing. Less than a minute.
The doctor watched us, baffled.
Only Ashur and I knew just how stupid our plan really was.
I stepped in beside him and waited for the cue. In the flicker-dark of the cramped lift, his arms suddenly locked around my waist; my breath caught.
Stunned, I planted a hand on his chest.
His hot breath burned across my cheek.
'G—grab the edge,' he said, low and firm at my ear.
I inhaled once, deep, and then he lifted me—weightless—clean off the floor. I ignored my ruined leg and caught the lip of the opening before I could fall.
His hand clamped my waist, steadying me while I hauled myself up.
My arms shook. I didn't have much left in me; I was more will than muscle.
I clenched my teeth and dragged myself through.
Blood ran warm down my leg. The weakness came in waves.
I scrambled all the way onto the roof of the car and sat, breathing hard.
I caught a handful of the dangling hoist cables to anchor myself.
The shaft was cold, dark.
I fought to stay conscious; the edges of my vision threatened to grey out.
I glanced at my leg—it was numb now, more like a freezer-burnt slab than part of me.
He followed me up.
In the dark, I looked at him and thought:
This is the last step. The last chance. The last try.