Chapter 24 WHAT ARE THE ODDS?

Chapter 24 WHAT ARE THE ODDS?
CONTAINS VIOLENCE
18+

MIA
I move a bit but don’t open my eyes. I reach for the side of the bed and realize I’m alone in bed. Nikolai must have left early; he did say that this was just sex, so why do I feel this pit in my stomach? I knew what this was, and it’s not like it’s my first time being used.
So, I just lay there, inhaling his faint scent that still surrounded the room. Seconds passed, or maybe minutes, I’m not really sure. Then I heard the sound of my door opening. My heart jumps into my throat, my first thought is Finn for some reason, but then I remember that Finn always knocks – always.
So, it has to be Nikolai.
Relief loosens something in my chest, so I let my lashes lift just a fraction, careful not to make it obvious, just enough to see without being seen.
But immediately I see who it is, my blood turns to ice.
It’s not Nikolai.
The man standing inside the room is a stranger, tall and dressed in dark clothes. His face is unfamiliar; in his hand is a gun.
I swallow without moving or showing any form of panic. It’s to my advantage that whoever this is doesn’t know that I’m awake yet, but I can’t let him get too close to me.
I move swiftly and throw myself off the bed, dragging the sheets as I move. Fabric flies up in a white blur, tangling the air and stealing my sight, and giving me just enough time to move.
A shot is fired, but it’s not loud, a silencer. The bullet tears through the fabric and air where my body had been a heartbeat earlier. My body hits the floor hard before another shot comes.
I roll, fast and low, and disappear under the bed. My pulse thunders in my ears, drowning everything else out.
I have a ton of questions floating through my mind at once, but I don’t stop to think; I just keep moving.
I roll through to the other side, coming out behind him while he’s still tracking the bed, expecting me to come out where I’d vanished.
He turns swiftly and fires the gun at me, hitting my shoulder. Pain explodes in my brain, and I swallow a scream. My arm goes numb instantly, useless weight dragging me down, but I stay on my feet.
With my leg, I kick hard. My foot connects with his wrist, knocking the gun out of his grip before he gets a chance to fire another shot at me. The gun skids across the floor and out of reach.
We both watch the gun for a few seconds before we crash into each other.
He comes at me with a snarl, grabbing my injured shoulder. I cry out and drive a knee into his stomach. He staggers but doesn’t go down. His fist connects with my ribcage, and I taste blood.
He doesn’t give me time to recover; he comes at me again, and we crash into the side table, then the wall. He is even more relentless now.
I swing my other arm at him and miss. I know that I won’t make it out of here alive if I don’t think fast. I’m losing blood, and I’m starting to feel dizzy.
Another hit and I land on the floor, I twist and feel the bed for something, anything that can give me a little edge in this.
He ignores me and starts walking towards the corner where the gun is now lying.
Why isn’t Nikolai here?
I feel something soft and free, a scarf, or a pillowcase. I don’t even care. I pull it and go for him right before he can grab the gun, looping the material around his neck in one brutal motion.
We both land on the floor together as he starts to thrash around. I brace my foot against the bedframe and pull with everything I have left. My shoulder screams, and it feels like fire is ripping through my arm, but I hold on, teeth clenched so tight my jaw aches.
He chokes, and his hand claws at the fabric and at my wrists.
I lean back, using all my fear, my weight, and my rage.
He fights for a few seconds longer, violent, desperate- until his movements slow and his grip weakens. His body sags against the restraint, but I don’t let go.
Not yet.
My chest heaves, and my lungs drag in air that feels too thin while blood drips from my mouth to the floor. My hands tremble, but I keep pulling until I’m sure – until his body goes slack beneath my hold.
Only then do I let go.
I stumble back, looking at the dead body, unable to believe I’d just survived that. I could have asked him some questions, like who sent him and why- but when put in a situation like this, the only instinct is to survive.
The gun is still across the room.
And Nikolai still isn’t here.
What if this was his order? I wonder, the thought alone makes my chest tighten.
No. That doesn’t make any sense. Nikolai doesn’t do his things like this; he doesn’t send strangers to do dirty work for him.
I’ve known the guy two minutes, and look at me defending him. That dick must have been something.
But what are the odds?
I have been guarded constantly, watched, and protected almost to a point of suffocation. And suddenly, a man just walks into my room with a gun like that. No one came bursting in or anything.
No one came to check on me. That’s off.
By now, someone should have been here. Finn. A guard. Anyone.
That’s it. They wanted me dead.
Anger bursts through my veins; everything didn’t add up, but it didn’t matter. I had grown stupid enough to believe that these people actually wanted to protect me. I can’t believe how comfortable and dependent I got that in the midst of danger, I was looking forward to someone coming to save me.
Stupid me.
I get to my feet, walk over, grab the gun, and run. Adrenaline is the only thing fueling my body and pushing me forward.
I run down the hallway, past the doors, and into the open air, lungs burning, vision tunneling.
“Gun!” I hear someone yell.
Everything happens too fast before my fuzzy brain can process it.
But suddenly, I’m surrounded by guns- raised, and aimed at me.
My breath hitches, and my mind screamed See? See?
These people were never here to protect me; they were always the enemy.
‘Drop the weapon!” someone yells.
My hand tightens around the weapon instead.
It was him all along. The man who attacked me was working on his order; he was one of them.
I lift my gun and fire.
One of the guards goes down, and gun fires erupt, tearing through the air from every direction. I run for cover, pain flaring as bullets clip my side, my thigh, and other parts of my skin, but nothing vital.
I fire again, but don’t know if I hit anything.
I’m losing a lot of blood from the wound on my shoulder, and the adrenaline that has been carrying my body longer than it should have is slowly fading away.
The world becomes noise as I slowly fade into the white light.
I don’t think I was supposed to make it out of that room.