It didn’t matter much. Once Sterling and I were inside and the door clattered shut behind us, there was no turning back. Already a nervous mess, I jumped at the echoing sound, the knife nicking me. “Ouch.” I twitched forward, trying to keep my body away from the pointy object. It pierced my shirt, just scratching my skin, but probably enough to cause a little blood.
Of course I was wearing white.
“Sadie!” Sterling called, flustered, his voice vibrating throughout the abandoned warehouse. “Where are you?”
So much for coming in inconspicuously. He’d just fully announced his arrival. Did he want to draw out the Elite? I assumed so. Wandering around this massive place would take too much time, especially with a hostage and another one he had no real control over. Kenna glanced over her shoulder, shooting Sterling a nasty glare as she deliberately kept her pace at a crawl, still clinging to the pepper spray.
He caught on quick. “Keep moving, cunt,” he snapped, ordering Kenna about and giving her incentive by letting her see the flash of his knife.
“Now you show your true colors. How hard it must have been for you to pretend you aren’t a psychopath,” I spat, letting that bead of anger burst through my fear. I could hear Micah’s voice in my head, telling me that now was not the time to practice female empowerment with a blade pressed to my side, but shit if I didn’t want to stand up for myself.
What if I spun really fast and brought my forearm down over his, knocking the knife out of his hand? Then I could kick him the balls. It could work, right?
He let out a bitter laugh. “When your boyfriend does shit like this, it’s acceptable, but it makes me deranged? Hypocritical much?”
“So not the same thing,” Kenna muttered sarcastically, loud enough for Sterling to hear.
I stared at the back of her head. “They’re not going to hurt your sister,” I assured him, hoping to calm down the crazy in his expression. It didn’t work.
It was awkward walking with his arm looped around my waist, keeping me too close to him, but he didn’t let up an inch. “You should know better than anyone. All they do is hurt people.”
I wanted to argue, but I had nothing. In a way, he was right. The Elite did hurt people.
But they also fiercely protected those they loved. Sure, most of the time that was each other, but it also extended to a small circle of friends.
We came to the end of the first open room with its high ceilings and exposed rafters. Sterling prompted us down the corridor, keeping Kenna a few feet in front of us, directly in his eyesight. At the third door on the left, her demeanor changed, and I knew we had come to where the Elite were.
She halted, unsure what to do next, but Sterling was there in the next heartbeat. He turned me to the side and kicked my cousin forward into the room. From the doorway, I gasped, watching her tumble forward on her hands and knees to the ground. An oomph of surprise expelled from her upon impact, dark strands of hair curtaining her face.
“Should have known you wouldn’t come alone—" Micah’s voice abruptly broke off, and without looking at his face, I spotted the tension zapping through him. That was the precise moment his gaze landed on me. He wore streetwear of tattered black jeans and a dark T-shirt that hung long and loose.
A hush fell over the room.
With Sterling still holding me captive, I lifted my eyes, half afraid to meet Micah’s gaze. Cold fury like I’d never seen radiated in the depths of his icy blue irises. A flicker of panic came and went like a flash of lightning on a stormy night.
It was about to open and pour wrath like Sterling had never seen. Four against one wasn’t great odds, even with me as a hostage. I tried to apologize with my eyes alone, but Micah’s focus shifted to Sterling.
The Elite assessed the change of events, four sets of eyes darting from Kenna to Sterling to me, in different orders, but once Micah’s landed on me again, they never left. His whole body tightened, the vein running down his neck pulsing.
Grayson stood scowling on the other side of Micah, a beanie pulled over his dark hair. “Goddammit. Seriously! Couldn’t the two of you stay put for once?” he seethed, more than annoyance lining the hard planes of his body.
Kenna shoved to her feet, dusting off her hands. Her knees were scuffed. Neither of us had dressed for a brawl. “This isn’t our fault,” she barked, irritated that her brother was scolding her instead of the guy with the knife.
Fynn flinched, watching Kenna compose herself after the fall. I could tell by his expression that he wanted to go to her. He touched the brim of his ball cap, twisting it around backward on his head.
Grayson’s jaw flexed. “Next time we have shit to take care of, we’re tying them up.”
“What a good idea,” Sterling sneered, propelling me forward and pushing the blade deeper into my shirt. A single chair sat only a few feet in front of me beside where Kenna had hit the ground. “Why don’t you have a seat, Splash? It’s going to be a long night for you.”
What did he mean by that? Surely he didn’t plan on keeping me here all night.
Nothing in me wanted to sit in that chair already equipped with ropes on the arms and legs. Fun. The chair had been prepped for Sterling, I assumed. I immediately stopped my mind from wondering just what the Elite planned to do to him while tied up.
The room was devoid of any other furniture but had an ample supply of dust, dirt, and critters scuttling in the corners. A faint trace of piss lingered in the chalky air. Moonlight spilled from the windows on the east side of the room, providing little light, and since there was no working electricity, the Elite had a portal fog lamp in the other corner of the room.
Kenna turned around and faced me, giving the Elite her back. The fire in her brown eyes made them look almost amber. Her fingers were clenched at her sides, the pepper spray still in one hand.
“Kenna,” Grayson rumbled, upset that his sister was in the crossfire, about to do something stupid.