Chapter Twenty-One #3
I ducked low, spinning to face her, and punching her pubic bone hard and fast, as that was enough to make the eyes water of both males and females. She grunted, grabbing my hair and pulling until my eyes watered.
Papa had insisted the girls in the family didn’t need to learn to fight, Mama had had other ideas. She had arranged self-defence classes for all of her daughters, which included firearms training. Our instructor didn’t play by the rules, and taught us to fight dirty.
I shoved my head in between her legs, launching myself forward to shove her toward the stalls, and the toilet in them. She stumbled back, allowing me to stagger to my feet. My dress allowed me to use my legs, and I kicked her back until she landed on the toilet, her knife clattering to the ground.
Her face contorted into a mask of anger and rage, and she reared up like a monster from Hell. “I was going to make it quick for you, but now I’m happy to make you suffer before you die.” Her kick connected with my jaw since I wasn’t quick enough to avoid it.
Caine had been my self-defence instructor in England, and he always said never to use the same move, and to vary my attack.
This woman should have taken advice from him because she went to kick me again, and this time I caught her ankle, twisting my body to rotate her leg in the opposite direction, and dropping myself to push my entire weight behind the move.
I felt the moment the joint gave way for her knee to dislocate.
“Fucking bitch,” she snarled, grabbing my hair again.
“You talk too much,” I bit out, dropping her leg and steadying myself since my head felt ready to burst after her kick.
Her hand groped inside her jacket, and I lifted the complimentary perfume from beside the sink, squirting it in her eyes as she dragged a gun out.
I kicked the gun away, stomping her hand with my deliciously pointed heels. Walking in these heels was an art form that I had cultivated over many years. Fighting in them took a lot of practice and concentration.
She pulled my skirt, dragging me to the floor, as she continued to fight.
I rolled over, bitch slapping her across the face to leave her ears ringing.
I crawled forward even as she reigned blows to me, dragging my hard, pointed nails down her face.
Properly manicured nails were a woman’s first defence, and I always insisted my nail technician make mine rock hard.
There was a rap at the door into the toilets. A few moments later, Maximus’ voice sounded. “Olivia?”
The woman used my moment of distraction to grab my throat, her grasp bruising me, and stealing my breath. My fight or flight mechanism kicked in, and I fought for my life, rolling over to try and dislodge me as I mentally counted the number of seconds of oxygen I was using.
I aimed my attack at her eyes, using my nails to cause the maximum damage. With her choking me, I couldn’t shout out, and my vision was fading in and out when the door was kicked open and Maximus stood in the doorway.
He dragged her off me, tossing my attacker into the toilet cubicle. Jake stepped in behind Maximus, closing the door as they assessed the situation.
“Get my car brought around,” Maximus said, pulling me to my feet, his fingertips tracing over the damage to my face and throat. “We need to get Olivia out of here without anyone seeing what happened.”
“And her?” Jake nodded to the woman trying to struggle to her feet. She was the assassin equivalent to a Duracell bunny who never stopped.
Maximus pressed a kiss to the centre of my forehead before stepping forward. He snapped her neck, her face forever frozen in shock. “Lock her in the toilet until this place clears.”
I shook my head and pointed to the window. “Toss her out the window, you can pick her up below,” I rasped.
“We are at the back, and the bins are down there,” Jake replied.
“Fuck!” Maximus muttered. “I never expected them to be so brazen. Give me a hand.”
I watched as they manhandled the woman out of the window, her legs the last part of her to disappear. I knew I should be disgusted, but I could barely hold my own weight up as I leaned against the wall.
Maximus turned to face me, his expression like thunder appearing on a sunny day. He took his coat off, tugging me forward to put it on me.
“Your dress is ripped,” he said, searching the floor to recover the necklace I didn’t realise had been ripped off me. He put it into my handbag, lifting out a brush to fix my hair. “I’m afraid I can’t repair your make-up, but if you keep your head down, no one will see your face.”
He cupped the side of my face, his thumb skimming over my bottom lip. Maximus didn’t say a word, but his eyes said everything. I nodded once in reply, and Maximus took my arm.
Jake straightened the disturbance in the restroom, and moved out of the room first, his arm appearing a few moments later to wave us out.
The two men walked on either side of me, while I kept my head down.
Gabriel and Willow appeared as we reached the top of the stairs, moving in front of us without a word being exchanged.
The music was still playing in the background, which meant there were minimal people in the corridors and entrance hall.
I could see a few feet turning in our direction, but I refused to look up and give people something to gossip about.
My legs were shaking by the time I reached the door to the outside world.
Maximus’ car was outside, one of his men standing at the side of it. He automatically opened the door for me, and handed the keys to Maximus.
“We’ll be right behind you,” Gabriel said. “Keep your speed down so we can keep up.”
“I’m going to head to Mum and Dad’s house,” Maximus replied. “I don’t want anyone following us to our home. They may know where it is, but I’m going to hope they don’t.” His hand on the top of my head guided me into the car.
Maximus stood beside the car, his legs my view.
“Gather our generals,” he said to Jake. “I need everyone in tonight as I want to know who authorised this. Get rid of the body, but not before you find out who she is. Someone’s going to lose their head over this, and I have no problem gift wrapping it. ”
The door slammed, and Maximus appeared beside me a few moments later. He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white and his jaw tight.
I touched his leg. “We need to leave. We’re starting to attract attention.”
He turned around and stared at me for several seconds before he started the engine. “You could have been killed,” he said. “I never saw an attack in the toilets.”
“Can we discuss this later?” My hand shook as I tried to push my hair back.
The car lurched forward, and Maximus began driving as if a pack of hellhounds were following us. It certainly felt as if we had descended into the depths of Hell.