Open Wounds (Harbour Bay #2)(72)

Her body refused to move and in the distance she heard the shrill sound of sirens that told her help was on the way. But would Amelia and Darryl survive that long? They may already be injured—or even dead. No. They couldn’t be dead.

She hesitated. If she went in she could very well turn into more of a hindrance than anything else. But knowing her best friend, and Darryl, were in there pushed her forward. On stiff legs, she moved toward the door.

She gripped the container of her capsicum spray hard as she slipped quietly inside and stood motionless for a few beats as her eyes adjusted to the unusually dark room. Slowly, she made out shapes. Tall stacks—at least a dozen—of shelves, each filled to capacity with canned items and an assortment of dry goods dominated the space. She was in the restaurant storeroom which made sense since she’d entered through the deliveries entrance. She felt along the cool cylinder, working up from the base to the tip to remove the safety cap. She took a moment to make sure she had the spray nozzle facing away from her.

Kellie moved cautiously when she saw a figure up ahead in the darkness. The shape told her it was neither Amelia nor Darryl. She’d recognise their silhouettes anywhere. She had no idea how far inside they’d gotten but from the multitude of sounds surrounding her, Kellie knew they were dealing with more than just Burton and Coleani.

Blood pounded in her ears and the scent of cordite burned in her nostrils.

Kellie stopped suddenly. The back of her neck tingled and her ingrained survival instincts screamed at her to run. She retreated quickly only to find herself trapped by thick bulging arms as they wrapped around her waist and throat, squeezing hard and cutting off oxygen. Kellie struggled. Her feet dangled in the air as she was lifted up off the ground. Her mind flew into a panic.

Blackness whirled behind her eyes as little sparks of light mingled with the dark. The nails of her free hand dug into her captor’s arms as she began to hyperventilate. Within minutes she would be unconscious or dead and considering what lay beyond for her, she welcomed death.

Her brain started to shut down. She knew she should fight back but couldn’t get her limbs to move. She had trained for years in case she was ever confronted with this situation but she hadn’t counted on the emotional element.

She tried to calm herself, to clear her mind of everything but Nick’s instructions. He had taught her all the dirty moves a woman could utilise to disarm a man. All she had to do was remember and use them. She took deep breaths and relaxed her body, going pliant. Instantly, the behemoth loosened his hold on her which she immediately used to her advantage.

Her right leg bent at a ninety degree angle as she sent it in motion, allowing her leg to gain velocity as she brought her knee up as high as she could in the air before sending her leg back, the ball of her stiletto slamming hard into her attacker’s knee. Bone snapped and his leg crumpled, almost sending him toppling to the floor, releasing his hold on her. As soon as her left foot touched the ground, she dug the sharp heel of her shoe into his foot, the point of the three inch dagger-like heel piercing the leather of his shoe and stabbing the top of his foot.

He sent out a yelp, distracted. Kellie swung around and sprayed her attacker with capsicum spray. His hands moved from his knee to his eyes as they burned and he screamed, disorientated. He stepped back, knocking into a stack. Kellie glanced around. She hadn’t completely incapacitated him just yet and would need something more than capsicum spray and her stilettos. She caught sight of a wrench resting beside a can of creamed corn on a shelf. Obviously someone had been fixing the stack but had been too lazy or distracted to return the wrench to the red toolbox that rested at the base of the same stack.

Kellie snatched up the wrench and before the man could move another inch she’d smacked him hard over the head with the stainless steel tool. The man, who she now recognised as Coleani’s bodyguard, Aaron Huber, fell to the floor in an unconscious heap.

She rested her hand over her pounding heart and stepped back, her heels clicking loudly against the floor. She removed her shoes, tucking them beside the toolbox before slipping into the next stack, then the next, as she continued further into the room. She made it around two stacks before she tripped over a large prone figure lying outstretched on the floor. Her fists clenched as she squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips together all at once in an effort not to scream.

Darryl?

Pain so acute cut through her as she dropped to her knees beside the body and rolled it over. Relief washed over her as she recognised the man as being another one of Coleani’s bodyguards.

A shaky breath escaped her lips. She couldn’t wait until this night was over. Kellie’s chin jerked up when she saw movement in her peripheral vision. Her heart thumped as Darryl moved around the end of the stack opposite her, his finger poised over the trigger.

She watched, horrified, as yet another of Coleani’s bodyguards appeared behind him. Kellie couldn’t stop the shout of warning that tore from her mouth any more than she could change the situation. Darryl swung around and had discharged his weapon before Kellie could finish her warning. She’d barely gotten her breath back when another gunshot rang out, the echo ringing painfully in her ears.

Everything in that moment slowed to a standstill as Darryl fell.

She screamed his name, the sound wrenched from her throat, the voice that filled the room nothing like her own, so full of anguish that it was palpable before the world became deathly silent.