“Under the couchnow,” he hisses in my ear as he rises. As quickly as I can, I drop to the floor and scurry under the couch, a cramped space filled with dust and lint.
“Come on, Mag!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Magnus calls out in response. “Let me get my pants on. Unless you boys want a show, but Idocharge for those.”
I’m just pulling my left foot under the couch when I hear Magnus unlock the lock and open the door. From where I’m hiding, I can see two sets of black boots step into the living room. Vincent’s men.
“What’s going on, fellas?” Magnus asks.
“Looking for Josie.” I recognize the voice as Hank’s, one of Vincent’s regular dogs hired to do his dirt for him.
“And you thought you would find her here because…?” Magnus asks.
“You were the last one seen with her at the club,” a voice I don’t recognize chimes in.
“And you cut out on work early,” Hank adds.
“Food poisoning,” Magnus lies, taking a seat on the couch above me. The cushion sinks down just above the section where my feet are. “You really think I’m dumb enough to take the boss’s girl home with me, fellas? You think she’d even go with me?”
The men’s boots continue to patrol the living room as my heart rate rises. The dust and lint is invading my nose. I can feel a sneeze coming on and do everything I can to fight it.
“Food poisoning, eh?” Hank asks, clearly not buying it. “Jimmy said you seemed fine earlier.”
“Well, you know food poisoning,” Magnus replies. “Just hits you out of nowhere, doesn’t it?”
The pressure in my nose is building. It’s absolutely killing me. I pinch my nostrils together with my fingers, but I just don’t know if I’m going to be able to hold back.
“All right, Magnus,” Hank says. “You let us know if you see her, all right—?”
And then it happens.
A sneeze forces its way out of my nose.
It’s muffled, tiny, and barely audible, but itisaudible. The black boots in the living room stop moving, and Hank stops speaking.
I’ve just blown it.
“Magnus,” Hank says slowly, his voice taut like a bowstring. “Is there somebody under your couch?”
What happens next, I can only speculate. Magnus leaps off the couch, I know that because I can see it shift from where he was sitting, and then there’s a sound of someone getting hit. Voices cry out, but I can only watch the struggle from where I am as three sets of boots all shift for position around the living room.
“You son of a—” someone gasps.
There’s a blunt, fleshy sound, and Hank’s partner goes down hard on his back, knocked out, eyes open, staring vacantly into space. I gasp and clasp a hand over my mouth so I don’t scream. Not that it would matter at this point.
I want to help Magnus, but what help could I really be at this point? Still, this is all my fault, so I quickly roll out from under the couch to see him facing off with Hank, who is clutching a knife so long it could practically count as a sword. He lunges at Magnus with it, but Magnus simply sidesteps the attack and drives his elbow straight into Hank’s nose.
Hank’s legs give out from under him, and he hits the floor beside his companion. I don’t even have a second to recover from what I’ve just seen before Magnus is lifting me into his arms and carrying me out the door.
“W-wait,” I stammer. “Where are we going?”
“We have to get out of here now,” he replies as he carries me back over to his truck. With one swift motion, he sets me into the passenger seat. I’m blinking my eyes, trying to bat away the reality of what just happened as he gets in beside me. “They know about us now. They’ll send more men to the apartment. We have to get to somewhere they don’t know about.”
The truck tires squeal, and I’m pushed back into my seat as Magnus hits the gas and we speed away from his apartment.
“I-I’m so sorry,” I sigh. “About the sneeze.”
Magnus smiles and takes my hand in his. “Don’t blame yourself, gorgeous. Blame that son of a bitch Vincent for everything he’s done to you. But don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of him, and then you’ll be safe forever.”