Escaping Death
Chapter 28

When You Say My Name - Chandler Leighton

I like the way your mouth moves, the way you say my name

Cause when it’s on your tongue you’re in love, what a shame

— — — — —

Dean

Ace is probably going to kill me for losing track of Sol considering it was my fault she took off. I didn’t mean to push her away, but it seems every attempt I make to get closer to something real the more walls she puts up.

I can feel Ace’s restlessness. I think after all the years I’ve known him I could distinguish his emotions even without my gift. No sooner had the thought entered my mind when my phone buzzed with Ace’s text.

A: I swear to the Gods if her ass isn’t in this car in 30 seconds…

If I tell him the truth that she ran off again he’ll absolutely make good on his promise to bring her back to Twilight Grove and I’ll never see her again. But, if I lie to him to cover for her…maybe I can have a little bit longer with her before he kills both of us.

D: You’re a real cock block, you know that?

A: Now is not the time to play games with me, Dean…

D: One drink won’t kill anyone

T: I wouldn’t be so sure D, boss didn’t see what she’s wearing

The three little dots dance on my screen so I know Ace has something to say but I lock my phone and tuck it away instead. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I search through the crowd looking for Solana. I’m supposed to help Tate but once we get this job done we need to make sure we are gone, so time is of the essence to find Solana.

I stick to the walls scanning each section of the club as I go but there’s no sight of the fiery red head that walked into the club on my arm. I even duck into the corridor by the bathrooms. It’s hard to tell from the black walls but beyond the bathroom is another hallway, one with an office tucked on one side and a long corridor down the other.

There’s a flurry of activity, girls rush out and the two guards outside of the door rush in. When they exit, one is carrying a lifeless girl over his shoulder and the other is carrying a bucket of blood soaked rags.

Mitch.

After I double check that no one else is coming out of the room I make my way slowly towards the door and find that it’s been left ajar. Inside the room is another entire nightclub for one person with much more sinister proclivities.

I push deeper into the room when I pick up on faint clicking noises. Sure enough my little brother sits kneeling in front of another door inside of this room working on picking the lock

If there’s anyone in there you wouldn’t know it, I guess the soundproofing really does work.

“He in there?” I ask, spinning the silencer onto my pistol.

“Yes,” his response is clipped, but that’s not wholly uncharacteristic for my baby brother.

“Alone?”

“No.”

“I don’t think we’ll be able to save this one, judging by the last girl they hauled out of here. Fucking pig.” I spit the last words.

“We’re going to have to… it’s Solana.”

My blood chills immediately and my mind tries and fails to compute the words he just said properly.

“How the hell did she end up in there?”

“How am I supposed to know? She was supposed to be across the street in a car with Ace.” He says, a pillar of calm and collectedness. “I slipped in when the guards took away the dead body.”

“What are you bothering with the lock then? Kick in the door!” I whisper-shout to him in case the rest of the room isn’t soundproof.

Still as calm as ever Tate replies, “we do that and he’ll kill her on the spot and link his guards.”

“Tate…” I plead with him.

“I fucking know D, I’ve almost got it.”

The lock finally clicks, the door swings open, and I immediately look for Mitch’s head so I can put a bullet between his ears.

But we’re too late.

— — —

Solana

The back room is larger than I expected, much larger. It’s like a small club within a club. Everything is styled in blacks and red, oversized leather couches line the walls, and in the back of the room is a small circular stage with a pole where a woman in a silver sequin bikini dances for her private audience.

Mitch places a heavy, malicious hand on the small of my back and escorts me to the corner of one of the couches where the light doesn’t catch us but we still have a full view of the room.

Sex, blood, and booze overwhelms my senses. It’s everywhere. Embedded in the very fabric of the furniture and painted onto the walls. It’s a nauseating combination.

“Someone get in here and clean that bitch up!” Mitch shouts and the men standing guard hastily make their way into yet another adjoining room. Mitch takes the tray from me, bites the top of the liquor bottle off between his teeth, and takes a generous gulp.

“You,” he barks to the dancer, “get out. Everyone out!”

I survey the room while he watches to make sure everyone follows his command. One of the guards walks out of the adjoining bedroom with a petite blonde girl slung over his shoulder. She’s dead and the parts of her that aren’t covered in blood are covered in bruises. The other guard sprays what smells like bleach all over the place, the sting from the smell burns my eyes, until he too exits carrying a bucket full of blood red towels.

“Alone at last,” Mitch purrs at me, lips pressed to the bottle for another swig. I try to ignite my flames and make quick work of this asshole but my fire doesn’t come.

A sinister laugh rumbles from his chest when he notices. “Your magic won’t work in here, dragon. You thought covering yourself in pheromones would hide your true scent from me?” He grins when he notices my surprise. I’m not surprised he can smell me, I’m surprised he can’t sense that my scent is real — that I’m a hybrid.

Mitch comes over to me and roughly grabs the hair behind my head, but I can’t panic yet so I school my emotions and stay in character.

“I’m sorry, Sir. They gave them to me in the back. Said the patrons liked them.”

He studies me a moment before his grip relaxes by a fraction and the rage in his features morphs into something darker. “I’ve found dragons to be more…resilient. You don’t break as easily. You make me work for it.” He growls.

Very slowly I stand up, sliding my hands up his chest as I rise, until I’m standing flush against him with his hand still wrapped in my hair. “Do your worst,” I challenge him.

He lifts me by the waist like I weigh nothing and wraps my legs around his waist as carries me into the next room. There’s nothing gentle about his touch. Everything is rough, callous, and demanding. He throws me onto the bed without warning, giving me whiplash from the snap of my head bouncing off the mattress.

I can hear him stripping off his pants so I quickly look around the room for any options to take him down. I won’t win against him with brute force alone, he’s easily three times my weight in pure muscle. And as a wolf his rapid healing will turn my claw marks into faint scratches.

I have an idea…but it’s extremely risky. If anything goes wrong I’ll be the next girl slung over the guard’s shoulder. But I don’t plan on dying tonight.

Mitch rips the thin fishnet dress I’m wearing to shreds before hooking his fingers into the waistband of my panties and attempting to yank them down to my knees.

With my knees bent above me, I rock back enough to lift my bottom up so he can pull my panties down. But when they reach my knees, I stretch my legs straight out with enough force that the heel of my stilettos go straight through his eyes.

He howls in pain, reflexively jerking back and pulling me along with him, unable to get my heels out of his eyes.

I smell them before I see them. The scent of leather and darkness, but also the warm honey smell of home.

Tate pushes Mitch’s body off of my heels and Dean puts a bullet between his eyes before he can hit the floor for good measure.

“Are you okay?” Dean cups my cheeks in his hands and looks me up and down. A rosy blush stains his cheeks when he realizes I’m only wearing a very skimpy bra and panties.

“I’m perfectly fine,” I smile back at him, collecting the netted fabric that could once be called a dress. I fold it over twice and then wrap it around my waist creating a makeshift mini skirt. It’s not perfect but it’ll get me out of the club. “You two really need to step up your game.”

I peck a kiss to his cheek and give his shocked face a little patronizing slap.

He grabs me by the wrist stopping me from leaving so soon. But instead of lecturing me like I expect him to, he does something I very much do not expect.

He kisses me.

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