Chapter 27 Willow
WILLOW
No. They can’t be here.
The three men standing in the doorway are wearing ski masks, but there’s no doubt in my mind who they are. One of them holds his gun above his head and fires another two shots, sending people scrambling for cover.
The priest darts away, ducking low as he runs, and Troy curses and reaches out for me, but I step back on instinct. My heart is racing, torn between hope and despair that the men are here.
“Willow!”
My head snaps up when someone calls my name, and before I can react, one of the masked men—Vic, judging by his voice—grabs my hand, dragging me away from the altar as Malice and Ransom cover us.
The church is in total chaos now. Guests are screaming and running for the exits, some of them huddling on the floor by their pews, trying to get away from all of this.
As Vic pulls me away, I get a glimpse of Troy’s angry face, and behind him, I see Olivia in the crowd, her delicate features contorted in fury.
But there’s no time to dwell on that.
Vic is running and pulling me along, and I have to stumble to keep up with him, trying not to trip over the train of my dress. Malice and Ransom keep anyone from getting close, and I get yanked through a door and then hustled down the back halls of the church.
Once we’re clear enough, Malice shoots me a look, fury burning in his eyes behind his ski mask.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he demands.
I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, shouts and footsteps ring out from somewhere ahead of us. My head whips in that direction, my heart crashing against my ribs.
“Shit,” Ransom curses. “We were right about Olivia having security here. They’re probably about to surround the whole damn building. We need to move before we get boxed in.”
Ahead of us, Jerome rounds the corner from an intersecting hallway, and there’s another guard dressed in a black suit beside him, guns drawn as they try to block our exit.
Malice and Ransom move almost as one, firing at the two guards in our way.
Jerome gets clipped in the shoulder, grunting heavily, and both guards duck back behind the corner, using it for cover as they fire at us. Vic snags my arm, dragging me behind him as we evade Jerome’s gunfire.
My feet get caught in the lacy white skirt of my dress, and I almost go down in a heap before I yank it out of the way, my heart thundering. Another volley of shots ring out, and Vic pushes me behind one of the pews that line the hallway, trying to find some kind of cover.
“More guards!” Ransom shouts, calling out to Malice, I think. “I count four of them now. Two on the left up ahead, and two on the right!”
“Fuck. Goddammit.”
Malice is suddenly kneeling in front of me, pulling me from Vic’s hold.
He wraps an arm around my shoulder protectively, swinging his other arm around the end of the pew as he fires a shot toward the intersection in the corridors up ahead where more of Olivia’s security team have joined Jerome, taking cover around the corner.
“We’re not getting out that way,” he tells his twin urgently. “We’ve got to double back. We need another way out of here. Something with a clear path to the car.”
“On it.”
Before I can ask what Vic means by that, Ransom and Malice both open fire on the guards up ahead of us, giving Vic cover as he stands up and dashes back down the hallway, retreating the same way we came from before splitting off in another direction.
Once Vic is out of sight, Malice drags me to my feet and hauls me backward too, ducking and cursing as a bullet slams into the wall less than a foot from us.
“There’s a door back there,” he shouts to Ransom. “We can cut them off!”
Ransom nods. “Yeah, I see it. Go, go, go!”
There’s a set of double doors at the end of the corridor that must be fire doors or something, and Malice drags me down the hall and pushes me through them before he and Ransom shove them closed.
A heavy metallic clang rings through the hall as they latch, and almost immediately, shouts and footsteps rise up from the other side of the doors.
Now that Malice and Ransom aren’t holding Olivia’s security forces off by returning fire, the men who were cutting off our path are trying to close in on us.
And although there’s a door between us now, I have no idea if it’s locked, or whether the lock will hold.
Ransom must have the same worry, because he glances around quickly, then jerks his chin at Malice.
“Help me!” he calls.
There are pews set at intervals along the walls of this corridor too, and Malice and Ransom shove one in front of the doors, blocking them. Something heavy hits the door from the other side, and I yelp and duck down.
“Come on, Solnyshka.” Malice grips my arm again, sharing a look with Ransom before glancing at the doors. “That won’t hold them for long.”
Ransom snorts, his eyes glinting behind his mask. “Doesn’t matter. If it takes us that long to get out of here, we’re fucked anyway.”
I glance between them, my lungs burning. I feel like I can’t get enough oxygen, even though I keep sucking in desperate breaths of air.
Things are happening too fast for my brain to process.
One second, I was standing in front of Troy, about to say the words that would bind me to him for the rest of my life, and now I’m running through the back halls of the church, getting shot at.
Maybe I’m in some kind of shock or something, because none of this feels real.
Part of me thinks I must still be standing at the altar, and that my mind is playing out this imaginary scenario to keep me from breaking down as I wed myself to Troy Copeland.
Malice gives a sharp tug on my arm, and then we’re moving again, sprinting down the hall. Ransom is up ahead of us a little, reloading his gun as me move.
“What are we doing?” I pant. “Where’s Vic?”
“He went ahead to find another way out,” Malice says grimly. “He’ll meet us.”
I don’t know why Vic has a better chance of finding a clear way out than the rest of us do, but maybe it’s because he’s the one who’s the most analytical.
Whatever the reason, Malice seems to think he’s got it handled, and that’s more than I can say for myself.
I’ve probably spent more time in this church than any of the brothers, but right now, I can’t even remember which room I got ready in, and that was less than an hour ago.
The sound of the guards trying to break through the barricaded door fades behind us as we run, and Malice takes a left and then another left, leading us away from the nave of the church where the ceremony took place and toward an area that seems like it’s all offices and meeting rooms. My feet keep moving automatically, nearly tripping over each other as I try to keep up with the two brothers.
When a door suddenly bursts open from our right, the sound of it startles me almost as much as the sight of the two burly men hurtling through it.
They plow into Malice and Ransom like linebackers, and I skid to a stop as they roll across the floor, grunting and cursing as they grapple for control of their weapons.
Malice elbows the one who tackled him in the face, but the man ducks his head to avoid the worst of the blow, gripping Malice’s forearm and bashing it against the floor as he tries to break his grip on his gun.
“You fucking cunt.”
The voice behind us is harsh and angry, and I hate that I recognize it.
Troy.
I whip around, but I’m too late. Troy grabs me by the front of my dress, tearing the delicate beadwork at the top as he hauls me toward him. His booze-tinged breath fills my nostrils as he bares his teeth.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he sneers. “You didn’t think I’d bring a few of my own security team just in case your lowlife boyfriends tried to start some shit? Well, my men will deal with them, and then I’ll deal with you, you little cunt.”
“Willow! Fuck!”
Malice’s cry breaks off in a grunt as he grapples with the guard he’s still fighting.
Ransom is trading blows with the other guard, his ski mask slightly askew as the two of them plow into a wall.
Troy chuckles viciously, as if he’s enjoying the show.
He starts dragging me away, back toward the main part of the church, and I dig in my heels, clawing at his grip and hitting him as I work to pry his fingers off me.
I finally manage to wriggle free of his grasp, more beads tearing from my dress. But he reaches out in a flash and catches me again, grabbing my wrists this time, fury snapping in his eyes as he glares at me.
“You stupid bitch. I knew you were going to be—”
Whatever he was about to say is cut off by the sound of a gunshot.
I swear I can feel the bullet whiz past me, and the noise is so loud that it makes my ears ring.
As the loud pop echoes in the air, Troy stumbles backward and then drops to the floor.
He goes down hard, sprawling on his back as a splotch of red blooms on his chest, widening quickly.
I slap my hands over my mouth to hold in a scream of shock as I stare down at his body with wide eyes.
My ears are still ringing, and my head spins as I glance over my shoulder.
Vic is standing at the end of the hallway, his gun drawn.
Malice and Ransom are between us, still dealing with Troy’s security forces, but the fighting pauses for a split second as they all realize what just happened.
Malice takes advantage of the opening, landing a crushing blow to the face of the guard he’s been grappling with.
The man slumps, losing consciousness, and Vic strides forward quickly, pointing his gun at the head of the guard who’s wrestling with Ransom.
“Get up,” he says coolly. “Right now.”
The guard complies, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender. Vic nods to Ransom, who snatches his own gun up from where it skidded across the floor during the fight.
“Goodnight,” Ransom mutters, stepping toward the remaining guard and cracking the butt of his gun sharply against his temple.
“I found a clear way out,” Vic says, his voice even as he glances between his brothers and me. “All the exits are blocked, but there’s a direct path to the car from a room up ahead. Follow me.”
Without waiting for an answer, he turns and moves swiftly down the hallway. Malice is on his feet a second later, grabbing me as Ransom joins us to follow their brother.
Vic leads us around another corner, keeping a wary eye out. I can hear shouts in some other part of the building, but I can’t tell where they’re coming from, and in the distance, I can hear the faint sound of sirens.
The guys must hear it too, because we pick up our pace as Vic jerks his head toward a room set off the hallway, and we all spill inside.
It looks like a nursery, probably a place where parents can leave their kids while they go to church, the room large and mainly open in the middle.
But I don’t see anything that looks like an exit, except the door we just came through…
until Vic takes aim and shoots most of the glass out of the window at the far side of the room.
“Take Willow first,” he says to Malice, who nods.
I barely have time to register what’s happening before Malice is scooping me up and launching us both through the window, shattering what’s left of the glass and sending us into a tumble.
We land on a grassy lawn outside, and Malice is up in a matter of seconds, grabbing me and dragging me out of the way as Ransom and then Vic come crashing through after us.
“The car’s that way.” Vic points to his right as he leaps to his feet. “Move!”
The world spins as Malice scoops me up again, sprinting to the car with his brothers on either side of us. He shoves me in the back seat, and Ransom slides in beside me, slamming his door.
Then Malice is behind the wheel, slamming his own door shut. He cranks the key in the ignition, and we peel out in a squeal of tires and a cloud of burning rubber and exhaust.