Nothing Left to Lose (89 page)

“What’s your
name?” I asked angrily.

He stood there,
shocked. “Elliot.”

Elliot? I
frowned. So where was this Justin Morrison guy then? Maybe there
was more than one of them assigned here to find this ‘something
important’. “Turn around,” I ordered, pushing the gun harder into
the back of his head as a warning. As he slowly turned to face me,
I eyed the rest of the room. He was alone. “Where is Carter
Thomas?” I asked, watching his face for signs that would give him
away.

“Who the hell
are you?” His voice was tight. He knew him.

“Where is
Annabelle Spencer?” I asked, pressing the gun to his forehead. He
flinched. He definitely knew.

He didn’t
answer, but his eyes flicked over my shoulder. I spun around to see
a guy with a gun advancing on me from behind. I dropped to my knees
and shot the guy coming in behind me just as he shot where my chest
was a second ago.

I pulled my
knife from the waistband of my jeans and grabbed the guy named
Elliot, slamming him against the wall, pressing my knife against
his throat. “Where is she?” I growled angrily.

He didn’t
answer, but his walkie-talkie started going crazy.

“Elliot?
Tannor? What the hell’s going on? Were those gunshots?” the
walkie-talkie crackled.

“I don’t know,
secure her upstairs, I’ll go check it out,” another guy answered on
the line.

Secure her
upstairs. Holy shit, she’s here? Anna’s here in this building?
Happiness tried to bubble up inside, but I pushed it down. I still
had a long way to go and I needed to focus.

“Where is she?
Which room?” I asked, grabbing his walkie-talkie from his belt and
clipping it on mine instead.

“Fuck you!” he
spat.

I pushed the
blade of my knife harder against his throat, watching as a thin
line of red appeared. “No, fuck you! You’re going to tell me, or
you’re going to bleed to death,” I growled angrily.

He sneered at
me; he wasn’t going to tell me. I pulled away slightly; I would
just knock him out for now, just to take him out of the equation, I
didn’t want to waste time tying him up or anything. If Anna was in
this building, then I needed to hurry. Obviously they knew I was
here because they’d heard the gunshots, so I had no time to waste.
When I moved, Elliot went for his gun. Before he could grab it, I
reacted instinctively, slashing the blade across his throat,
cutting deep. He clutched at his throat as he slumped to the floor,
gasping for breath as he bled out. I didn’t bother to wait until he
was dead; I turned and made my way out of the room. She was
upstairs somewhere, but this freaking place was enormous.

I knew I should
call for backup, but I didn’t have time. If they knew I was here
then they could move her and then I’d lose her again. I couldn’t
take that chance.

I walked up a
flight of stairs slowly, keeping my eyes and ears peeled for any
signs of life. I saw movement ahead and spotted a guy crouched at
the top of the stairs. He hadn’t seen me yet, so I moved across the
hall, hiding against a doorway to gain a better angle. I closed one
eye and shot him straight in the head, suddenly wishing I had a
silencer on my gun so that they wouldn’t hear where I was.

Shifting my bag
over my shoulder, I made my way quickly up to the next flight of
stairs. If there were guys here then I needed to follow them to
lead me to Anna. Another guy turned and leant out of the doorway,
firing off a few rounds at me.

I pressed back
around the corner, letting him shoot off a couple of shots as I
grabbed my extra clip from my pocket. When his shots paused, I
leant around the corner, shooting off a couple of rounds before
changing my clip quickly but dropping the dead one on the floor on
purpose. “Shit,” I mumbled loud enough for him to hear. My plan
worked. He stepped out of his little hiding place, obviously
thinking I was having trouble reloading and that he could take
advantage of it. As soon as he stepped out of this cover, I shot
him twice, going for the kill shot. I didn’t care about any of
these guys; they were a threat to Anna so they needed to die.

Okay, Taylor,
keep going. Four down, probably loads more to go!

As I pressed on
up the hallway, Elliot’s walkie-talkie crackled to life on my belt.
“I don’t know where they are, there must be more than one guy.
Elliot and Tanner are dead, and I’ve heard a lot more shots since
then.”

I smiled; I
could definitely use that to my advantage if they thought there was
more than one of me.

I stopped when
I heard whispering around the corner. Pressing myself against the
wall, I reached into my shoulder bag and pulled out the little
mirror I’d brought from my SWAT kit. I positioned it so I could
look around the corner to see who was there. There were two guys
talking in whispers, looking around desperately; one of them was
running his hand through his hair nervously. Both were armed, but
from the way their guns were hanging loosely at their sides, I knew
that they had no idea how close to me they were. I shifted and
dropped to one knee as I rounded the corner, shooting them both
dead instantly.

I was on the
move again. Further up the hall there was a large, expansive room.
My eyes widened as I peeked around the corner, checking it was
empty.
Shit, this isn’t going to be an easy room to cross!
There were desks everywhere, giving so many places for people to
hide. I frowned and looked at the door on the opposite side,
knowing I needed to get to the stairs on the other side. This side
of the building was now clear, so she had to be somewhere over
there.
How the hell am I going to cross this room on my own?
There was no possible way I could cover all of my hotspots and my
back would be exposed. But there was no other choice.

I reloaded my
gun and stepped tentatively into the room. Silently, I berated
myself for not calling for backup. I knew I didn’t have time to
wait for them, but I should have at least sent someone a message to
let them know where I was. I still would have had to move in on my
own, but at least they would be aware of her whereabouts if I’d
sent that message. If I died right now, they would have no idea.
Clearly I had let my emotions get the better of me. I made a mental
note to send a message to one of the agents as soon as I made it
across the room.

There was a
rustle of movement to my right. I flicked around too late, and a
guy smashed my gun out of my hand, breaking one of my fingers at
the same time. Before I knew it, there was movement from all sides;
I knew I needed to move quickly.

I lunged
forward and punched one of them in the throat; I gripped his hair
and smashed his face into my knee, knocking him unconscious. Before
he even hit the floor, another guy stepped out, pointing a gun at
me. I grabbed my knife from my waistband and threw it into his
chest. I turned to my right, readying myself as another one stepped
forward. I knew that move would leave my back exposed, but I had no
choice. I punched him in the face, gripped the back of his head and
crashed it against one of the desks, just as another guy came from
behind and hit me on the back of the head with something hard,
knocking me out cold. I didn’t even have time to feel it before I
was unconscious.

I had no idea
how long I had been slumped on the floor – it felt like days, but
it was probably only a few hours. I sat there motionless as Jimmy
came back, carrying a pre-packed sandwich and bottle of water,
putting them next to the unopened one he’d brought me in
earlier.

He looked at me
apologetically. “I’m sorry, Anna, I am, but I had to. I don’t have
a choice,” he explained, frowning. I nodded and turned away from
him. I couldn’t look at him because I knew I would cry again, and I
needed to be strong now.

“I need the
bathroom,” I muttered, defeated.

“Okay, come on
then.” He took my arm, holding me tightly as he pulled me to my
feet.

As soon as we
stepped foot outside of the room I was being held captive in, I
elbowed him in the face and ran as fast as I could. I had no idea
where I was going as I stumbled along, opening doors at random,
hoping to find fire escape or maybe a weapon I could use or
something. As I rounded a corner, I ran smack into a beefy guy who
wrapped his arms around me. I looked up into Mark’s sneering face.
My heart sped up as my mouth popped open in shock. Mark featured in
my nightmares a lot of the time. He was Carter’s right-hand man and
second in charge. He was probably the one that had been running the
organisation while Carter was locked up.

I struggled and
thrashed, but he was holding my arms too tightly for me to get
away. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he looked down at me
distastefully. One of his hands wrapped around my arm with bruising
force as he whipped back his other hand and slapped me hard across
the face. His grip on my arm was the only thing from keeping me
from flying to the ground. My whole face exploded in pain and
little lights danced in front of my eyes, making me feel dizzy and
disorientated.

“Stop
struggling or I’ll have to tie you up, and that would be
uncomfortable. Carter said we needed to keep you comfortable,” he
spat, sneering at me angrily. He’d never understood Carter’s
fascination with me; he’d always looked at me like I was a piece of
trash – but only when Carter wasn’t there, he wouldn’t dare do it
in front of him.

A tear escaped,
and I fought to keep them away as I stopped my useless efforts to
escape. The best I could hope for now was death, but I knew that
wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Maybe if I could piss Carter
off enough, he’d kill me. Maybe he’d even kill me by accident,
beating me for letting Ashton kiss and touch me. Mark led me to the
bathroom and stood there watching while I went, which was
humiliating to say the least. When I was done, he pushed me roughly
towards Jimmy, so I tripped and fell into his arms. Jimmy looked
annoyed as he put me back in the room and was wiping at his split
lip with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Please let me
go,” I begged, falling to my knees in front of him, gripping his
jeans. “I’ll do anything you want.” I hated myself for it, but I
would do anything not to have to go through what I went through
last time.

“Just a couple
more hours and then he’ll be here,” he replied emotionless, pulling
his leg out of my grasp and turning for the door. He slammed it
shut behind him, making it rattle on its hinges from the force of
it. Clearly, with that one little attempt to escape, I’d just lost
all hope of Jimmy being nice to me and trying to help me like he
used to. I slumped down to the floor and rolled to my side, curling
into a ball, waiting for my nightmare to begin all over again.

After what
seemed like forever, but could have been five minutes, I heard
shouting from outside the door, followed quickly by gunshots. My
head snapped up as my mouth dropped open in shock.
Gunshots. Oh
my God, the police have come for me! Oh thank you, thank
you!

I jumped up and
moved away from the door as I heard more shouting. Apparently
someone was in the building; they were talking heatedly about
repositioning or something.

I smiled
hopefully.
Please, come on, please!
More gunshots. I pressed
against the wall, waiting and waiting. My eyes were focussed on the
door expectantly. Any second now, a couple of secret service agents
would burst through. I chewed on my lip excitedly. I’d never
complain about having guards again.

Nothing
happened for ages. I was starting to lose hope because I couldn’t
hear anymore shooting. Had it been a mistake? Had they searched the
building but not been able to find me? Had they left? Or maybe
Carter’s men had won and had killed yet more agents, more people
could be dead because of me. Suddenly, the door burst open. I
looked up, startled, seeing two of Carter’s men dragging someone
into the room. The guy was clearly unconscious and his feet dragged
on the floor.

My heart
stopped as I took in who it was they were dragging.

No! Oh God,
please no!

I ran over as
they dropped his lifeless body into a heap on the floor. “Call an
ambulance! Jimmy, call someone! No, Ashton! Jimmy, help him
please?” I begged, the tears flowing again now.

“He’s not dead,
Anna. They had to knock him out. He killed seven guys. He’s gonna
wish he was dead by the time Carter gets here,” Jimmy replied,
shaking his head grimly and walking out of the room.

I ran to the
door. “Jimmy, please! Help him, please!” I screamed, banging on the
door until my fists hurt. I ran back to an unconscious Ashton.
Blood covered his face, his hands were red and bruised and a gash
on the back of his head was slowly leaking blood onto the floor. I
pressed my shirt on it to stop the bleeding; it didn’t look too
bad, but he probably needed stitches. A sick sense of foreboding
and history repeating itself washed over me. I closed my eyes,
horrified.

This was just
like in my dream. The broken, bloodied face that I never wanted to
see was now cradled in my lap.

“Ashton, please
wake up, please,” I begged, wiping some of the blood from his
beautiful face. This was exactly the thing I couldn’t have happen!
I couldn’t watch someone else that I loved die right in front of me
because of me. “You stupid, stupid, adorable boy! Please wake up,
please.” I cradled his head on my lap, rocking him gently as my
heart broke all over again.

After a while
he opened his eyes slowly, groaning, looking around groggily. My
heart sped up. “Ashton, are you okay? Oh God, what the hell are you
doing here? Why did you come?” I cried, bending and kissing every
inch of his face.