Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
Why wasn't anything happening?
Ally had expected to be off this platform before now.
It had to have been over an hour since Mateo had approached her, and she’d made him come down her throat.
It was the only thing she’d done tonight that was her own choice, that she’d actually wanted.
Making him fall apart had her feeling powerful, like she could bring a man as strong and confident as Mateo Adler to his knees.
But everything else she’d had to do … that made her feel ill, and she didn't want to do it anymore.
Surely Mateo and his friends had a plan on how they were going to get her out. So why didn't they start enacting it?
True to his word, Mateo had stayed close by.
He circled around, laughing and talking with the others, pretending to drink the champagne offered by the waiters, but she knew he’d never really drink when he was here on an op.
It was weird to think of herself as an op, it made her feel, once again, like she was a thing.
Only this time, a thing to be rescued instead of a thing to be played with.
She was pretty sure that wasn't actually how the team Mateo had brought with him saw her, but it was how this whole situation made her feel.
A loud voice suddenly filled the room and she jumped. She was so on edge, expecting gunfire to pepper through the ballroom, but this wasn't anything of the sort. It was just a man, dressed all in black, stumbling slightly, clearly drunk, as he made his way toward where the small band played.
Announcing in an even louder voice that he was going to sing for them, Ally let her shoulders sag as she realized this wasn't a rescue coming. At least everyone seemed to be watching the drunk man, so there was no attention on her for the moment.
Taking advantage of this break, she closed her eyes and drew in a few deep breaths. This night had been hell, but it could have been worse. And Mateo was here, in the ballroom with her, a team outside. Before the night was over, she’d be out of here, on her way back home.
Home.
She wasn't ready to think about what that would feel like yet. It probably wasn't going to be all roses and sunshine as it should be, because she wasn't going to be the same woman she’d been when she was grabbed outside—
“Time to go, little mouse.”
The words caught her by surprise, and her eyes snapped open, her head snapped up, to find Mateo approaching.
“That man is—”
“One of the team that’s going to get you the hell out of here,” he finished for her.
Leaning in, he wriggled a small metal tool in the lock where the chair was attached to her collar, and a second later, it fell away.
“I wasn't expecting singing to be the way you got me out of here,” she said, as he wrapped one of his large hands around her bicep and helped her to her feet.
It had been hours since she was last standing, and her head swayed slightly as she got her balance, her legs protesting being straight after being forced into a kneeling position all this time.
“Wanted to avoid gunshots if we could. Don’t want to risk you getting hit,” Mateo told her as he helped her step down from the platform.
“I’ll carry you if you need me to,” he said when she wobbled slightly, the cramps in her calves and the high heels not a good combination.
“But it’ll draw more attention to us, and I want to get you out the door before someone stops Lucky. ”
“Lucky?”
“The guy who’s singing very badly right now.”
Nodding, she straightened, willing the pain in her legs away.
There was no time for it now. Not if she wanted to make sure that she and Mateo, and this Lucky guy, got out in one piece.
If she made a scene and they were spotted, then the lives of the men who had come to rescue her would be in danger, and that was the last thing she wanted.
“I can walk, you don’t need to carry me, just a little cramp, no big deal,” she assured him, curling her fingers around his when he slipped his hand into hers.
“Then let’s get out of here.”
When he began to tug her in the direction of the French doors behind them, she went eagerly with him, more than ready to be out of here.
Just because King hadn't physically hurt her, he’d made her come against her will, touched her when she didn't want him to, and made her kneel before his guests and service them like she was nothing more than a plaything.
He wasn't a good guy, and she hoped that Mateo or one of the Delta Force team would kill him. She’d recover a whole lot quicker if she knew the man who had bought her was no longer breathing.
It seemed to go so smoothly.
So easily.
They were walking across the room, and everyone else’s attention appeared to be fixed on the man called Lucky, who was currently singing, badly off-key, at the top of his lungs.
Ally couldn’t believe that they were just going to walk out of here. When Mateo had first told her a team would be coming in after her, she’d been expecting men in tactical gear breaking through windows, or shooting down anyone in their path. Not this. Not just walking out the door.
But of course, it didn't really turn out to be that beautiful.
Right as Mateo opened the door, there was a shout behind them.
“Hey! What are you doing? Isn't that—”
“Go,” Mateo whispered harshly in her ear. “There’s a motorcycle parked out front. I want you to get as close to it as you can and hide.”
“You're leaving me?” Automatically, her fingers tightened around his. She didn't want to be alone again. Mateo had only just gotten here, he couldn’t leave her already.
“Only for a moment. Just have to make sure you get out.”
“But—”
“No time for buts, little mouse. I came here to make sure you get home.”
“You have to get home too.” As badly as she wanted to go home, she didn't want it to be at the expense of anyone else’s life, certainly not Mateo’s.
“Go, little mouse, now,” was all he said, and he gave her a shove out the door at the same moment that more shouts echoed behind them.
Because she knew if she stayed, she would be a distraction, Ally ran.
Out onto the veranda, where a few couples had obviously wanted a moment alone and not been drawn in to take a look at the loud man singing.
Thankfully, none of them seemed to pay her much attention.
If they looked at her at all, they didn't seem to recognize her as King’s new toy.
As she crossed the veranda, she looked for the motorcycle Mateo had mentioned.
She had no idea where it was, and the grounds were extensive.
Kicking off the heels as she ran down the steps, she could move more easily without them, she continued scanning the area, desperate to find their way out of here.
There.
When she saw it, she made a beeline right toward it, realizing too late that a young man stood close to it. He had a weapon in his hands, but it wasn't aimed at anything, he appeared to be examining the bike.
Did he know that it was Mateo’s, and that it was going to be their getaway vehicle?
Veering slightly off to the side, toward a huge flowering bush that she thought she could hide behind, she was almost there when the man turned.
Eyes widened when he spotted her, and any hope that he wouldn't know who she was vanished.
“You're the princess,” he gasped.
“Don’t,” she pleaded when he took a step toward her. “Let me go, please. He bought me, I'm not here by choice. I just want to go home.”
“You're his,” the man sneered, and it was clear he didn't care that she’d been trafficked. Probably knew it all along and had been wishing he had been inside this evening so that he could make a visit to her. “You don’t get to leave.”
The man reached for something, not his weapon, but what looked like a walkie-talkie. Running was stupid, he’d chase her, catch her, and return her to King. If he did that before Mateo realized she’d run into trouble, then he might not be able to get to her again. At least not quickly.
So she did the opposite of running away.
She ran right toward the man instead.
That caught him off-guard, and he swung the weapon at her. Likely scared of injuring his boss’ property, he hesitated.
She didn't.
No idea what she was doing, other than she wanted to go home, and this man was trying to prevent it from happening, she grabbed the weapon pointed at her as soon as she was close enough.
They fought over it.
He was bigger, stronger, but she was fighting for her life, and that made all the difference. A moment later, the gun went off, the shot cracking through the night with a deafening bang.
August 20th
9:32 P.M.
His heart felt like it had stopped beating as the sound of a gunshot echoed through the night.
Mateo didn't care that the sound would alert everybody in the building that something was going on—well, he did, but it certainly didn't have every muscle in his body seizing in fear—it was the fact that it was likely Ally who had been shot.
He shouldn’t have sent her off on her own.
At the time, it had seemed like the safest solution, getting her out of the way while he cleared a path and made sure there was no one around to tell Koa Rolland or one of his security people that she was leaving.
Of course, it was only a matter of time until someone glanced at the platform and realized she was gone, but he wanted to be on the motorcycle driving out of here by then.
On his way out, he’d dealt with about half a dozen people. He hadn't killed any of them, although he’d wanted to, one couple at least he’d seen with Ally on the platform while he was watching over her, but instead he’d just incapacitated them.