Vincent (Made Men, #2)(83)

Closing the door an inch, Chloe was all she could see. She sat in the tub, holding her knees to her chest, nothing but a motionless, blank stare on her marred face. Lake knew the torture she and Elle had experienced could never be compared to the pain and torment Chloe had been forced to suffer. There was nothing in this world that could soothe her scars.

Making the ultimate sacrifice, she brought the door to a close, unwilling to let anyone hurt Chloe again.

*

Nero pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Here we fucking go. Lake already…”

Vincent watched a flash of terror cross over Nero’s eyes. Knowing something had gone terribly wrong in his gut, he ran toward the elevator, pushing everyone out of his path.

Seeing two men load onto the elevator, he pushed his legs harder to stop the doors from closing.

“Get the fuck off!” he growled at the two men, already moving to punch in the code to send them to the top.

Nero and Amo were right behind him, throwing the stunned men off the elevator and letting them fall to the ground.

The doors slid to a close as their heavy breathing filled the air.

God, don’t you fucking dare take her away from me.

*

Looking around the bedroom, relief flooded her that the gunman hadn’t made it up the steps to see her come out, and that it was too late for Adalyn to leave, the risk of getting Elle and Chloe hurt too great. The bathroom door could easily be broken into with one pop of the gun, but she had a chance of them being saved. If she could distract the gunman until help came, she might save their lives.

It just came with a price.

Think, think, think!

Sneaking across the floor, she went straight to Nero and Elle’s huge walk-in closet, grabbing a lamp that sat on top of a chest along the way. She then wedged herself behind the closet door, leaving it open.

The creaking of the stairs sounded in her ears. Lake gripped the lamp, turning her knuckles and fingertips a ghostly white as she stared at the open door in front of her.

The creaking ceased.

Be strong.

Faint footsteps padded on the bedroom floor.

She took a calming breath, and then her foot slammed the closet door closed.

Then, heavy footsteps padded right outside the door.

You are strong.

The door swung open.

Lake found peace with whatever fate she was going to meet. Sacrificing herself for her best friend, a protector who deserved protecting, and a broken girl who shouldn’t have a hand laid on her was a good way to go out.

She flung the door right back, swinging the lamp with all her force at the dark figure which had entered the room.

Pop. Pop.

*

The elevator moved, rising to the top. They were locked in until it came to a stop.

“What the fuck happened?” Vincent growled at Nero.

Nero squeezed the phone as he punched in numbers. “She said someone fucking broke in with a gun before she hung up.”

Vincent stared at the crack between the doors, envisioning them opening.

“Lucca, where are you?” Nero asked with hope in his voice. His voice then filled the tiny space again with that hope gone. “The girls. Someone broke in. We’re in the elevator…” He pulled the phone away from his face.

Vincent squeezed his jaw shut to the point he felt pain.

Amo clenched his hands, wanting to know what Vincent would rather not hear. “Where is he?”

“First floor.” Nero crushed the phone in his hands.

Lucca had been their last shot. There was no point calling anyone else at that point. Dante or anyone who could be in his office or in the security room would arrive at the same time they would.

He stepped up to the door, his face an inch away, every second feeling like an eternity.

Open!

Open!

Open!

Open!

Fuck!

The elevator stopped.

The crack started to open just like he had envisioned. Vincent twisted his body, getting off at the fastest possible second. A second could mean the difference between life and death.

Everything slowly started to blur together as he ran down the hallway, seeing a lifeless body of a fellow made man on the ground. He ran through the broken door and up the stairs.

The moment his eyes landed on Lake, the rage overtook his body. Vincent’s mind lost all control and he accepted it, greeting his old friend again.

*

Lake had successfully beaten the intruder with the lamp enough so the gun had fallen onto the floor, but not without going off a couple of times.

Run! She took the opportunity to open the door while he looked at the gun sliding across the floor. If she could lure him out and possibly downstairs, then the lives in the bathroom would be saved.

She had only made it halfway out before she came crashing to the floor, a body falling down on top of hers.

Reaching for the lamp to beat him upside his head again, her body was quickly snatched and turned around. Facing the intruder with him looking down on her, she could tell he was made. That look in their eyes gave it away every time.

“Where the fuck is she?” the crazed made man asked.

Fuck you! She fought him tooth and nail, kicking, scratching, and even managing to bite him when his arm got too close.

“You little bitch!” he roared, closing his hands over her throat.

No amount of kicking and scratching could pry his hands off her. She started to feel the life drain out of her…