Alena’s Revenge by K.A Knight

Chapter Seventeen

Alena

I’m pressed against him, using his warmth and height to make me feel secure and safe before going out there into the unknown. I don’t know why he makes me feel protected. He shouldn’t, he’s a murderer, an assassin. He already said he will leave me, kill me. Just because he fucks like a god doesn’t change that, even though he made me see stars…

Even though he hurt the guard for insulting me and lifted me so the blood didn’t touch me.

Shit, why is that so hot?

He slips out, and I drag my head from the gutter and focus on my mission. I’ve been planning this for so long. He doesn’t get to distract me with his cock and body. No, this is my time.

For revenge.

I follow him out. He turns left, moving quickly down the corridor. I almost have to run to keep up with my shorter legs, and when he stops at the corner, I bump into him. He grabs me to stop me from falling as he peers around the bend, and then he moves around it, dragging me after him to avoid the camera so they won’t know we’re coming. Boogeyman is sure and confident, knowing exactly what to do. If I didn’t know he was a hunter, an assassin, I would be worried about the confident, almost cocky edge to him. Like he’s walking down a beach, having a nice stroll.

It’s hot.

He takes the door the guard told us to, and I shut it behind us, watching him take the steps two at a time. It curves halfway up, and he stops and glances back at me with his finger on his lips. I hear talking and laughter then, even some low music. I nod, wondering how he heard it so quickly as he crouches and peeks around the corner. I stay there, observing as he glides up the stairs, and when he comes back, I move closer and he leans down. With his mouth against my ear, he murmurs, “At least fifteen there. That means some are wandering about and they will hear us. No way to go in quiet. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I whisper in understanding. He pulls back, giving me one last fierce look before pulling his gun, releasing the safety, holding it with two hands, and rounding the corner again. This time, I follow him. I have a gun and a knife. I’ve only shot a gun a few times with my dad when I was younger, but I remember how to hold it and aim, so it will have to do.

He doesn’t creep up the stairs this time, no, he storms up them, and as soon as he reaches the top, he begins firing. He holds the gun steady as he walks, effortlessly shooting and twisting and aiming in a blink. The shots are loud, the chaos even louder. Scrambling feet, bodies dropping, yells, and crashing furniture is all I can hear between shots.

I follow after him, and I see a man fall. The hand that had been reaching for his gun now lies on the floor, lifeless. I take aim, breathe out, and squeeze the trigger. I hit a man trying to duck behind a table and grin as I follow in Boogeyman’s wake. His gun clicks empty, and he drops it to the ground, rushing another who’s firing. Boogeyman punches him in the throat before turning and grabbing the arm of another guard, twisting his knife around and embedding it in his chest. I watch as he swings it down again and again before dropping the man and moving on.

Then I have to concentrate on myself, because two men have noticed me and decided I’m an easier target than the big bastard currently using a silver tray to decapitate someone. One lunges for me, and I duck his punch, kicking out, but I miss, and he grabs my leg and twists me into him. He wraps his arm around my neck as I buck and hiss.

“Hey, asshole, we have your dog!” he calls.

Boogeyman stabs once more with the tray, crouching over the body before looking up, his face covered in blood splatter. He picks up a gun, and without a word, he raises it. The man holding me doesn’t even have time to open his mouth before the bullet hits him in the middle of the forehead and knocks him back, the force freeing me. Boogeyman turns away and carries on shooting. Me? I dive and roll across the floor, coming up at the other guard’s feet as he aims at Boogeyman’s exposed back. Using my knife, I stab his foot. He screams and kicks me in the face. I fall back to my ass, but within a second, I leap at him.

He tries to punch and slap me away. His mouth opens in a howl, but I attack like the feral animal they called me. I punch, pinning him down before lowering my head and biting his neck. I dig my teeth in, even as he fists my hair, trying to rip me away. The sharp tug of pain as he rips my hair out only encourages me, the skin in my teeth popping as I add more pressure, and then the sudden taste of blood fills my mouth.

Like the dog they made me, I jerk my head from side to side, widening the hole as he screams. I sit back, watching him cover the wound with a pale, astounded expression. Laughing, I slice my knife across his neck, watching the blood run from the lesion before rolling to avoid a man firing at me.

The guard snarls and swears as he picks me up by my hair. I scream random noises as I swipe out with my knife, hitting him in the gut. Over and over, I slice, driving him back until he releases my hair and his intestines spill from the giant wound I created.

Panting and covered in blood, I turn to see bodies scattered across the floor as Boogeyman finishes another off by stomping on his head. “See? We did good, part—” Something hard slams against the back of my head.

The last thing I see is the ground coming towards me as the darkness swallows me whole.