The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(124)

There’s the telling sound of the front door crashing open downstairs. Glass smashes, and I know it’s the frames falling from the walls.

The police.

They’re here.

“Fuck.” Maxwell’s voice is barely above a whisper, and I watch with my heart in my mouth as the blood drains from all three of their faces.

“Move. Now,” Polly orders, stepping from Alec’s hold and grabbing my arm. She moves for the door when Alec steps in front of her.

There are people shouting and hollering downstairs, and I wonder why they aren’t helping me.

I want to call out and tell them I’m here, but I don’t think I can form the words.

“Nobody double-crosses me.”

Polly steps forward, my arm still in her grasp. “Alec, let her—”

“No,” he whispers it. He whispers it so calmly, it sends a chill up my spine. “You wanted me tonight, baby, and I’m giving you Felix instead. You fucked up, didn’t you?” He laughs. “Well, you’re welcome.” I watch in horror as he spits in Polly’s face, then hits her around the head with his gun.

“Polly!” I cry out, trying but struggling to break her fall. “Oh my god,” I mutter, my body physically shaking as I look up at Alec from the ground.

“Lucy, get up,” Maxwell demands from the door.

“No.” I take a deep exhale.

“Get up!” he shouts, stalking towards me.

“Get… away from… me.”

“Leave her.” My eyes shoot to Alec’s as he backs out of the room. “Fucking leave her, Max!”

Maxwell’s gaze locks with mine as footsteps thud up the first floor and across the landing.

Then, he turns on his heel and runs.

There’s only one set of stairs between the police and this floor, and my breathing seems to calm as the realisation that someone is coming to help us sets in.

“Polly. Wake up!” I shake her, and she stirs. “Pol, it’s me, Luce.”

She sits up in a daze, looking around the room, disorientated. “Where are they?”

“I think they took… the stairs to the basement.”

Footsteps get closer and closer, and she stands, losing her balance before quickly finding it again.

“Get back in the wardrobe.”

“What?” I mutter, kneeling on the floor. “No.”

“Lucy, please. I beg you. Listen to what I say.”

Something in the tone of her voice terrifies me.

A loud crash sounds in the next room, and she points to the bed. I frown before realising she wants me to hide.

I lie on my stomach, thrashing my things out of the way as I slide under.

Seconds later, they stalk into the room.

I can see chunky black boots—lots of them. And as the air shifts I know it’s not the police.

My hand lifts, and I cover my mouth, knowing if I don’t, my breathing will give me away.

I watch in horror as someone walks to the wardrobe and looks inside, then the bathroom, and then they stop beside my bed.

“Police! Stay where you are!”

Polly’s black trainers step into view, and I fixate on them. They don’t budge as the heavy boots step up to them, toe to toe.

“The fuck did you just say, silly girl?”

“You’re under arrest,” she says, full of conviction. “All of you.”

There’s a laugh. It’s light and dark and has my mind wondering who it could possibly belong to.

Who is this man?

“I don’t want to hurt you, darling.”

“You’re under arrest for suppl—”

Polly hits the floor with a sickening thud.

A tear slips down my cheek as I squeeze my eyes tight, my hand plastered to my mouth.

She quickly scrambles to stand, and then a moment later, something unexpected happens.

He hits the floor.

All two hundred pounds of him.

He startles for a moment, just as shocked as I am. I see the other boots in the room move towards Polly as he stands, and then there’s a click followed by silence.

Polly’s trainer shifts half an inch, and I still.

Something lodges in my throat, and I try to swallow past it.

“You’re going to shoot a police officer? Think about it, pretty boy.”

I instantly search for a footing on the floor, knowing I can’t lie here and let Polly be alone in this. There’s not one talent I possess that can help her, but doing nothing isn’t an option.

There’s a scuffle, and I see Polly trying to keep her feet sturdy, but there are two sets of boots by her, and her grunts tell me she won’t be able to take another hit.

The image of Alec cracking her over the head with his gun flashes, and my stomach turns.

Get up, Lucy.

Now!

I plant my hand down on the floor and push forward, but it slips out from under me. I peer down to find an envelope stuck to my damp palm—the edges still crinkled.

For when you need something to fixate on.

My eyes close as my mouth parts, finally expelling all the air in my lungs with ease.

The envelope is clenched tight in my hand as I pull myself forward and swipe at the legs of the man who’s stood in front of me.

He stumbles but doesn’t fall. And then, before I can make a move to stand, a boot connects with the side of my head.