Fifteen Ella
FIFTEEN
Ella
The tile is cold beneath my cheek, and Justice’s body is inferno hot and stone hard.
A fire starts to roar above us. I shriek as panic slams into my chest, but I can’t move.
He’s a solid force, locking me against the floor.
Glass explodes somewhere behind us. Gunfire rattles through the night outside, each burst sharp and controlled.
“We have to move.” Justice rolls off me, still covering me with his body, and then pulls me forward. The pressure is gone but the urgency spikes to my nerve endings. I launch into motion on instinct, my body reacting to the rhythm of gunfire.
Was that a real missile? If so, another could be on its way. The elevators won’t be safe.
I gasp, and before I can warn him, Justice shoves me toward the living room.
His eyes snap to the wide wall of windows. He swears, grabs my hand, and yanks me forward. “Run.”
We tear down the hallway. Justice whistles sharply, and Leo darts out of the open doorway, panting, tail up, eyes alert. He barks twice toward the blown-out kitchen, teeth bared in a silent snarl, then sticks tight to Justice’s side.
“They could’ve infiltrated the elevators,” I choke out, my voice high.
Justice glances at me but says nothing, scanning every shadow.
A helicopter thumps the air outside, blades cutting deep and loud.
“Is it yours?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer. My stomach knots.
Then the chopper tilts, nose down.
Gunfire erupts and shatters the living room windows, bullets ripping into the furniture. The shots punch through walls, spraying drywall dust through the air.
I scream and grab Justice’s arm.
“Not ours,” he says, low and brutal.
Leo growls deep in his throat, teeth flashing white.
Justice drags me forward. “Go!”
We sprint the rest of the way. He kicks the wide double doors open, revealing his bedroom in tones of black and red.
I have no time to take it in. He pulls me into a walk-in closet lined with suits and rows of polished shoes. At the far wall, he shoves shirts aside and presses his palm flat against the unmarked surface.
The wall slides open.
He yanks me into a narrow chamber, and Leo leaps in behind us. A dim light flickers on overhead. The door seals behind us. My breathing is ragged.
Justice’s arm clamps around my waist, holding me steady. “Hold on.”
The chamber is metal, every edge perfect. He shifts me behind him with one quick motion, keeping my body shielded. His palm presses against another mirrored wall and it unlocks, revealing an arsenal stacked tight. He grabs two weapons, one for each hand.
The elevator drops without warning. My stomach flips, and I yelp. The chamber is a hidden elevator buried inside the skyscraper, carrying us away from the burning wreck above.
“I can’t believe this thing exists,” I gasp against his back. This box isn’t on any plans and nobody knows about it. We’re dropping way too fast for an elevator.
“Hold on to me.” He braces his feet.
I clamp my eyes shut and wrap my arms around his waist, plastering my body to his. The landing is going to be rough.
It is.
We smash onto the floor, bounce, slam again. Metal screeches. My teeth snap together, pain shooting up my jaw. I nearly lose my grip but force my arms tighter around his waist, refusing to be thrown.
I let go only when the chamber stills. Going on instinct, I reach into the storage compartment. My fingers find a weapon, heavy and certain. A Glock. I rack the slide. A round spits free. It was already chambered, but I want to be sure.
“Don’t shoot me,” Justice says, voice clipped.
The building trembles, rolling with muffled blasts.
Explosions. The ground shakes and I nearly fall but regain my stance. Someone just attacked the Malice Media headquarters with a missile. How many more do they have?
Gunfire echoes above us. Shouts rip through the night. His men are holding the line.
The chamber opens into a hidden garage with room for two vehicles, but just one is here. Not just any car. A Rezvani Tank, matte black, angular and brutal, armored with clean lines and military-grade plating. Rare, modern and built for survival as well as dominance.
“Get in,” Justice snaps.
I don’t hesitate. I run to the passenger side, let Leo jump in and move to the rear, and then throw myself inside.
Why isn’t this space under attack already?
Then I see it. Thick walls surround us that are reinforced and seamless, with no visible door. “How do you plan on getting this out of here?”
Justice drops into the driver’s seat and punches a sequence on the console. The floor dips forward, grinding open into a downward ramp.
“Holy crap,” I mutter.
The engine roars alive. He drives hard, tires screaming against polished concrete. A tunnel stretches ahead, walls tight on both sides.
We’re flying.
I shake my head. I’ve studied the schematics of Silicon Valley my entire life, hacked into servers and systems most people don’t know exist. There is no record of this tunnel. None.
What kind of power does Malice Media really have?
The tunnel veers. Justice takes a hard right, then a left. The incline shifts and we’re climbing again. A detonation slams through the passage, deafening. I twist in my seat, panic seizing my throat.
Leo barks twice. Sharp and loud.
Through the back window, fire surges forward. A roaring wall of flame, racing straight for us.
I scream.
Justice climbs farther, slams the brakes, and throws the vehicle into a hard spin to stop abruptly. I smash into the dash and bounce back.
“Get out!” he yells, grabbing my hand. He flings his door wide, drags me across his side, and yanks us both into the open to drop fast.
Leo launches out right after us, nails scraping concrete.
We land hard in a smaller garage. I hit with my knees and keep my grip on the Glock as Justice jerks me to my feet. Leo circles once, ears pricked, then bolts for the door at our side. We chase him out into the night.
Trees. Wet earth. We’re in a wooded area, nowhere I recognize.
Justice sets a punishing pace, boots driving into mud. Rain slashes down in sheets, soaking us instantly. I gasp, coughing on the cold air.
The fireball explodes behind us. The SUV, the garage, everything erupts. Metal shrieks. Shards of glass, wood, and more metal whistle through the air.
Justice barks a curse, tackles me, and drives me down behind a tree. His body covers mine as burning debris rains past. Leo growls low, teeth flashing, and crouches against us. A hubcap slams into the ground a few feet away, making him growl at it before he steadies again.
Rain pours into my eyes, blurring the ruin and beating the fire easily.
Justice looks back, jaw tight. “Nobody is coming for us through there. We’re safe but need shelter.”
I push to my feet, brushing pine needles off my jeans. His chin is split, blood mixing with water. He wipes it away, fury glittering in his eyes. That’s twice he’s thrown himself on top of me. Twice he’s taken the brunt. He must really need me alive.
I glance around. “Where are we?”
“Just follow me and move fast.” He ducks low, maneuvers under branches, and takes a trail at a brutal pace.
Leo runs close at my side, muscles bunched, his coat slick with rain.
I pat his head as we push forward, needing the touch of something steady.
His ears are up, his tail flicking like he knows this is life or death.
He barks twice toward the wreck behind us, sharp and warning, then focuses ahead again.
The dog is fine. More than fine. This is an adventure for him.
His belly is full, his eyes bright, and he looks like he’s ready to fight.
I clutch the Glock tighter. I could shoot Justice. But I don’t. He saved me twice. I have no clue where we are and need him right now. Probably. More noise comes from behind us.
We walk for what feels like hours. The rain pounds us, cold and steady, and my legs ache. I’m soaked through, exhausted, and my breath comes in ragged bursts. Justice doesn’t slow, just drives forward with that relentless stride until we take another turn and—there’s a cabin.
I stop. This is the best safe house I’ve ever seen. The cabin is built into the rock itself, invisible from above or from any angle. From the path, it looks like shadow and stone until we’re right on top of it.
“Come on.” Justice stomps up the short steps and shoulders open the door.
Leo bolts past him, nails clicking on the wood as he bounds inside, tail wagging like he owns the place.
I drag myself up after them at a slower pace. My clothes are heavy, my hair plastered from rain and debris, and my body screams for rest. I’m wet, I’m freezing, and I’m stranded in the middle of nowhere. “Where are we?”
Justice shuts the door behind me and flicks on the lights.
He’s dripping rainwater onto the floor, dark hair plastered to his head.
His jaw is cut from stone, his bone structure sharp, his mouth hard.
Muscles stretch tight under his soaked shirt, every line carved and unyielding.
His dark brown eyes are cold, pissed, and alive with power.
He’s currently serving as the leader of the Irish mob while his brother is out of town, standing in the shadows of a cabin, and somehow he looks like sex and danger wrapped in one. “Safe.”
The place is small but solid and has one bed, a kitchenette, and a bathroom I can see off to the side.
A sofa and two chairs are arranged in a square that looks like they’ve never been sat in.
There’s no warmth or clutter. This place is temporary and utilitarian, obviously here as a true safe house.
“This doesn’t make any sense.” I scan the bare walls.
Justice moves past me into the kitchen, crouches, and reaches under the counter. He pulls a hidden lever. A trap door near the bed slides open, revealing stairs leading into shadow. The steady hum of electronics rises up to meet us.
That sound lifts something in my chest. “Now that’s better.”
Justice doesn’t move right away. His gaze locks on the Glock in my hand. “Give me the gun.”
“No.” I tighten my grip, daring him. “I’m not defenseless anymore. You have two guns and I’m keeping this one.”
His jaw ticks. “Hand it over.” He steps in close, all hard muscle and authority, his hand closing over mine. He pries my fingers back, ignoring my struggle, and yanks the weapon free.
“Don’t,” I snap, fury flaring hot inside me.
“I don’t take risks I don’t have to,” he says, sliding the Glock into the back of his waistband. “And you, Ella, are a risk.”
Leo growls low from where he’s settled near the sofa, ears forward, tail twitching. Justice doesn’t even glance at him. He just turns for the trap door, commanding without effort. “Let’s find out what’s going on.”
I glance toward the kitchen to see if there’s a knife block. Anything I can use for a weapon. Nothing. I can run, but the way I’m feeling, I won’t get far.
But downstairs? There are computers. Humming. Yeah. Those are weapons, too. He shouldn’t let me near them.
“Come on,” he says.
Gladly.