Knox creeps forward. I shuffle behind him. Max is right with me. The warmth of his hand calms me. It’s the only thing keeping me from crawling out of my skin.
The men stop. Knox’s arm lifts. Two shots ring out. Knox surges forward and I lose my grip on the back of his pants. Not that I need it. Max propels me forward. Just before I clear the bushes, he bodily picks me up and places me to his side.
Knox takes a knee at the bodies of two of Benefield’s guards. He bends over one, shoves something metal and black into his pocket. Then he shifts to the other body. Again, he leans forward. This time, instead of putting whatever it is in his pocket, he tosses the metal clip to Max, who catches it. He tucks it inside his back pocket.
“You ever use a pistol before?” Max arches a brow.
“I have.” Meaning, I’ve watched a lot of television and handled a real gun once in my life.
“Hand here.” He puts the grip in my palm. “Safety.” He shows me how to flick the safety. “Aim where you look. Don’t think too hard about it. You good?”
Hell no. I’m not good at all.
My heart’s banging away a mile a minute. The air suddenly feels thicker. Harder to breathe.
Knox tosses a bigger gun to Max. It’s one of those automatic rifles the guards always carry. Knox passes back another pistol to Max.
He takes it, and just like with the rifle, he checks the chamber. I didn’t check the chamber of the tiny gun I carry. Not that I’d know how, but I trust Max knew what he was doing when he put it in my hand. I don’t even know how many bullets are in my gun.
“Time to beat it.” Max glances over his shoulder. He takes my free hand and shoves it at the small of his back.
Now, I get to grip his pants. I hold the gun he gave me out to the side, making damn sure my finger’s nowhere near the trigger thingy. Just as Max stands, Knox’s hand is on my back. He doesn’t hang on to me the way Max did a second ago.
Max moves out. I follow because I’m holding onto him. Knox takes the rear, running backward and sideways at the same time.
This is definitely not their first rodeo show. Another explosion rocks the ground. This one’s farther away, but those gunshots are pretty damn close.
Gunshots?
Yeah, that pop, pop, pop is definitely the sound of gunfire.
We move in silence, which means I can’t hear Max or Knox. For the life of me, I can’t keep silent. When I try tiptoeing, my calves nearly cramp up. They’re still not fully recovered from the whole being tied-to-the-pole thing.
More gunshots ring out. These are a bit farther away. Max continues to move. We travel quickly down hallways, pausing at intersections while he checks to make sure it’s clear.
We’re not too far from Benefield’s office. I tap Max on the shoulder to get his attention. When he doesn’t answer, I call out to him.
“Max…”
He turns around, face calm and devoid of any emotion. It’s scary as shit; it’s a whole other side of him I never want to see again. Cold, calculating, he’s a killer.
I bite my tongue and glance right as we head left.
Twenty-Seven
Eve
I should be one hundred percent laser-focused, on getting out of here alive. It’s the smart thing to do, but that doesn’t mean it’s the right thing.
If Max and Knox really can get me out of here, then I need to make my time here worthwhile. There are other women to save. Other lives to recover. We meander down the hallways of The Retreat, backtracking as much as we move forward. If Max senses people in front of us, we duck down a connecting hall, then renegotiate our way toward the back of The Retreat.
Max’s knowledge of the layout of this place astounds me. We’re in areas few of the guests ever go. Not that they aren’t allowed. It’s simply the men who come here tend to spend their days in the Oasis as much as they can.
Our haphazard progress brings us closer to Benefield’s office, then frustratingly farther away.
Max leads us down another long hall. The shouts of men sound out in front of us. He yanks me back to an alcove, plastering our backs to the wall as five men run past us carrying guns. Too focused on where they’re going, they fail to see us as they rush past.
Max waits for several long seconds, listening for the sound of more men. When I can’t hold it in any longer, I tug on his sleeve to get his attention.
“Max…”
He turns to me, expression hard as granite, eyes dark and focused. I should remain silent. Let him lead. But I can’t.
“We need to go back.” I point down the hallway those men just went down.
“No. I’m getting you out of here.”
“Benefield’s office is that way.”
He gives a sharp shake of his head, dismissing me. I tug on his arm again.
“We have to go back.”
“Why?” He gives a slow blink and his expression completely changes. No longer the fierce warrior, he looks like the nicer version of Max I prefer.
“The ledgers.”
“Come again?” His brows pinch together.
“Benefield’s ledgers.” I realize he doesn’t understand. “He keeps written records of every transaction. Every girl who’s ever come through here. Every client who’s ever purchased a slave. We have to get it.”
Max glances back the way we came. For a moment, he looks like he’s considering it, but then he gives a sharp shake of his head.
“Can’t risk it.”
“We have to.”
“You’re our objective. Your safety is my priority.”
“I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t at least try.” I try to convince him.
“Max, we need to move.” Knox, who’s been listening to the entire exchange, is watching down the hallway.
Max grabs my arm, but I shake out of his grip. “I’m not leaving here without those ledgers.”
“I’m not leaving here without you.” Max gives Knox a look.
The two men stare at each other for a long moment. I swear they communicate telepathically. A whole host of facial expressions parades across their faces. I look back and forth between them, wondering what the hell they’re saying. Finally, Knox speaks.
“If it’s what she says it is…”
“I know.” Max turns to me. “Are you sure, absolutely certain, that’s what’s in those ledgers?”
“I’ve spent months in that office. I’ve seen him write everything down. Every name, the price paid, and girl sold.”
“This could be invaluable,” Knox says.
“I know.” Max taps the device in his ear. He gives a quick rundown of what I told him to whomever is on the other end of that device. Once he’s done, he cocks his head, listening to whatever is said back. At least, that’s what I assume he does.
The two men nod at the same time, leaving me guessing as to what’s been decided. I don’t like not being involved in whatever is being said about me, but I don’t have much of a choice. Honestly, I want to get out of here as fast as possible.
Who knew this much adrenaline could spike in a person’s body. My heart’s racing. My pulse slams in my throat and roars past my ears. I hear myself breathing, rapid and shallow. It feels as if I’m running a race, but I’m not.