Page 73 of Under Pressure

One thing she never admitted to herself was how much he looked like his father. His beautiful olive skin, golden hair and dark eyes, like a Northern Italian. His face even looked like his father’s, something she never breathed out loud.

But she’d always known.

Trembling ran up her arms and thighs as she ran her fingers over her phone. A rogue single bar of cell service appeared. Kendra jumped. She had to make a decision.

The deep, dark, much-avoided truth was that Delta was the only man she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, who would show up to save her. And he would absolutely fucking destroy whoever laid a finger on her.

She bit her lip and dialed his number, waiting for her cell to connect.

But the call dropped, and her signal went cold.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Come out,” the man’s angry voice called for her, echoing in the hallway. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Terrified, Kendra slid down the side of the cabinet, feeling things escalating fast. Her heart beat out of her throat, cortisol rising through her sinuses. She was so goddamn vulnerable, she thought, as her eyes darted back and forth for an exit.

Kendra felt tears springing to her eyes. The call to Delta still hadn’t gone through. She stuffed away her phone, debating what the fuck to do. Run and hide deeper in the lab? Could she make it unseen, unheard through the back and get into the parking lot? All she knew was to stay hidden—stay out of sight. Her mind analyzed the options, immediately struck by fear. She would never be able to make it.

Not by herself.

Peering around the cabinet where she was hiding, she got a quick glimpse through the partially open storage room door, seeing into the hallway again, assessing.

Then she saw him—the angry man.

It wasn’t the scientist. That wasn’t who was freaking out, smashing things and yelling after her.

It was Hunter.

What in God’s name is he doing here?

From her vantage point, Hunter stood in the hall, glaring back and forth, searching. His face was beet red, along with his bulging neck, sitting on top of a body in a pure fighting stance. Whatever he’d done, his transformation was complete. She gripped her bag tighter as she realized he was carrying a semi-automatic assault rifle. As heavy as it probably was, it swung in his arm like it weighed nothing.

“Why are you hiding from me?” Hunter’s angry voice echoed throughout the hall. “I know you are here. They told me you came.”

His neck started twitching, sending his head in a bizarre cocking motion. Before she knew what was happening, a deep, rage-filled bellow came out of his mouth and blood trickled from his lip like he’d bitten himself. She sucked in air, whipping back behind the cabinet, gripping her tote bag like a life raft. She again chastised herself for being so reckless, for coming there.

Then gunshots rang out from the lobby, telling Kendra everything she needed to know. It was all going downhill quickly.

She dug her cream-colored flats into the vinyl flooring under her feet as she crouched lower, trying to breathe. She mentally visualized the emergency exit down the hallway, flexing to prepare to run. She could get to the side of the building—and run to the main street, call the cops.

She stood and looked around the cabinet yet again, readying herself. Hunter was moving into a different lab, clearly searching for her. It was a matter of time before he came into the storage room. She could run in the opposite direction—and make it out. But just as she started to stand, an eerie silence filled the building that made her catch her breath and stumble backward for balance.

Sinking against the cabinet, she darted her focus left and right, but she didn’t dare move a muscle or peek out. Heavy footsteps were all that she heard—the sound of hard leather boots hitting the flooring—and they were getting closer to her. Her heart rising in her chest, through her throat, she shot her terrified eyes to the left as he crested the corner—a crazed Hunter with bloodshot eyes and a face that screamed murder.

Clenching his jaw, standing several inches taller than her, he reached forward and grabbed her by the neck of her halter, pulling her toward him. Shaking, grasping at his boulder-hard hands, she tried to wrench him off her.

“Let me go,” she pleaded as she tried to escape, but his grasp only tightened and he turned, bringing her with him.

“Nah, we need you. Isn’t that what Sky told you?” he said, pushing her forward as he made his way through the building, heading toward the lab.

“What?” Kendra coughed.

He laughed. “Come on. We are all sick of Delta’s shit. It’s time to join the team.”

His thick boots crunched broken glass on the ground that had fallen victim to his anger, and he stuck his rifle in her back as he moved her along, forcing her to go where he wanted.

“Let me go,” she cried out again, her voice cracking in fear as every victim’s face flashed across her mind.

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