Page 73 of Shield

Matti and I work fast, packing everything. Velvet bags, the display pieces, rough or polished—all of it goes in the suitcases. When we’re done, he smiles at me in the dim light of the vault. “Ready?”

I nod, and he grabs my hand, pulling me toward the door we came in, but before we reach it, loud bangs and shouts erupt from the other side.

Terror spikes through me. I look up at Matti, but he’s already moving, pulling me back the way we came to the rear of the vault. I cannot believe that this door is here, but is it a godsend or a death trap? Matti pushes the door open and pulls me into the darkness.

Pitch black engulfs us, thick and silent, the same blackness that surrounded us when Matti was fucking me, but this darkness is damp and cavernous. Matti uses the light on his phone to send a fuzzy beam of illumination in our path.

I’m used to wearing stilettos, but my legs feel like jelly after the way he wrecked me and this suitcase is heavy as fuck. I grip the railing with one hand, holding my suitcase with the other, descending each step shakily. He lets me take my time down to the first landing, then stops, turning to me.

“Kitten, hold on to your suitcase, please. And hold this.”

I take his phone from him and adjust my grip on the ridiculously heavy bag, as he hoists me over his shoulder. His strong shoulder muscles press into me, his forearm locking my thighs in place. With his free hand, he carries his suitcase and takes the stairs two at a time.

A squeak escapes me before I clench my lips together. I cling to his shoulder, every jarring step feeling like I could fall off and tumble into the abyss below. The light from his phone bounces in the darkness, illuminating only our next step and not what lies beyond.

Matti carries me down landing after landing, the stairwell twisting endlessly. Dizzy, I grip the suitcase and phone harder.

Finally, he sets me down, his hands steadying me as I wobbleon my heels and he takes his phone back from me.

“Fuck.”

The stairs dead-end on a landing with a gaping hole in the wall. In that hole, hovering a floor below us, is an industrial elevator. A makeshift wooden gate blocks the entrance.

I peek over the gate as Matti illuminates the area with his phone’s flashlight. The metal caging that makes up the roof of the elevator gleams dully from the floor below.

“Stand back,” Matti orders, and I comply as he lands two swift kicks to the gate hinges, splintering the wood until it gives way.

“But how do we—”

Matti ignores me and pulls a knife out of his back pocket, giving me a peek of the gun tucked into the back of his waistband. I shiver.

Dropping to the ground, he reaches through the broken boards. His blade makes quick work of the chicken wire ceiling of the elevator, as he easily cuts out a large section. Squatting down, he pulls off the top and doesn’t hesitate before dropping his suitcase through the hole and then follows it, jumping into the elevator hovering the floor below us.

The elevator shudders under his weight.

“Oh God,” I whisper, heart hammering.

“Don’t worry, kitten,” he whispers, grinning up at me.

I peer down at him through the hole. “Please don’t ask me to jump through that hole,” I hiss.

In response, he opens a panel on the elevator wall and presses a button. The elevator jerks into motion and I jump back as it slides up a floor and into place in front of me. Matti pulls up the metal bar that serves as a door and gestures forme to step inside.

“Better?”

“Seriously?” I step inside gingerly, eyeing the flimsy bar. “No door? How far up are we? Nevermind, don’t answer that.”

Matti secures the bar in place and hits another button on the control panel. The elevator lurches downward. I yelp and let go of the suitcase, threading my fingers through the chicken wire and holding on for dear life.

It feels like we’re inside a wall as we speed down. It’s still dark but the gloomy light from his phone illuminates the wooden elevator enough to show the drywall and insulation that we whiz past.

Matti slides an arm around my waist, pulling me close. “Afraid of heights?”

“Afraid of plummeting to my death,” I snap.

“You get cranky when you’re scared,” he says, stepping behind me and pulling me into his chest. “I can distract you if it helps.”

He dips his head down to nuzzle my neck, sucking hard above my clavicle. I moan, trying to buck him off me with my hips, still gripping the chicken wire. “Not helpful.”

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