Natalie's Legacy [sequel to Natalie's Diary]

[23] Five of Cups

[23] FIVE OF CUPS

Rhys

I pressed a finger to my lips, like Bia and I weren't already frozen, breath held as somebody outside the door swore and shuffled around.

The woman only just realized she didn't have the key. Bia's hand closed around the candlestick at her side, prepared to shift from accessory to actual murder weapon.

The rattle of the door handle finally stopped, but another few seconds ticked by before either of us exhaled.

"Do you think she went down to the front desk for a new key?" Bia asked.

"I don't know, but I'm not in the mood to wait and see," I said.

Bia scanned the room once more for anything else we might've disturbed before going for the door. As quickly as she opened it, she yelped, leaping back from it.

A bulky shadow stood in the threshold, very much thick enough to block the path. Connors grinned expectantly.

I lunged to slam the door shut again, praying to hear the latch catch. We could jump out a window or call down to the front desk. Anything but facing Connors.

The door smashed back at me, sending me crashing back into the wall. The door handle jammed against my hipbone, sending a sharp pain radiating through my side.

Bia backed away, gaze sweeping wildly around the room for an escape or a weapon or any alternative to Connors approaching her. I kicked at his shins as he stepped in, doing nothing but attracting his attention.

He gave it to me easily. I surprised him once and I wouldn't be so lucky a second time. Instinctively, I ducked, stopped short. Caught on the door handle. On my stupid button-down or a belt loop. 

No. It was the rope. The rope tangled around the latch.

Connors slammed the door closed, dragging me along too. He pressed his arm against my throat, radiating a smugness that choked almost as bad as the pressure against my airway. I fumbled for the rope, doing little more than batting at it, no way of escaping otherwise. I could claw at his arm and I would still be stuck.

Stop. Stopstopstop.

My vision darkened around the edges, heart racing but lungs useless. Stopstopstop stop panicking. I let my fingers go slack, my grip loosening.

"When we take her, remember it's because you let the mole in," Connors said. Helpless now and stupid then. A spy co-signed on my rental. A stupid vision I had that predicted a stupid mistake. I blinked and blinked trying to fight off the dizzying blackness.

"Rhys!" Bia shouted. A flash of silver whipped across the room, striking Connors' shoulder. It clattered to the floor, metal ringing. A sharp sound my senses reached for when everything was rapidly dissolving.

Just. Relax. Stop fighting. Just stop. Stop everything. My eyes closed, the last resort, an echo of Kian's instructions.

Connors moved.

I dropped, hard and limp. Rough carpet against my cheek. The banging of furniture, things falling over sounded distant. It sounded even less real than the dreams I might've had about it, if the dreams were ever helpful.

It wasn't a dream, though. It had to stay that way. Don't pass out. Consciousness hung on by a thread and even sprawled on the floor, my head spun, leaving stars in my eyes the second I opened them.

The glint stayed, even when my vision cleared. The candlestick, laying on the carpet, silver detail glittering.

"You might not be Jane, but you're pretty good leverage," Connors said and just hearing him say her name lit a white-hot anger in my chest.