Page 82 of Caterina
The two from the fight and a third I don't recognize.
They spot us immediately.
All three lift guns. Not just one. All three.
And everything I thought I knew about this being a misunderstanding evaporates in a flash of pure terror.
This is not a fight.
It's a hunt.
And I am the prey.
Adrian shoves me hard toward the stairwell door and pushes me through ahead of him. "Go!"
The door closes behind us with a heavy clang.
Shots echo behind us in the empty hall, deafening in the confined space.
I let out a sob, real and raw, and scramble up the stairs.
"Go, go, go," Adrian yells, and I do, my bare feet pounding against the cold concrete, my skirt tangling around my legs, my heart in my throat.
We are a flight up when the stairwell door below us flies open.
"Run," I scream, as if he doesn't already know.
We take the next flight two stairs at a time. My lungs are burning. My legs feel like they're on fire.
Another shot rings out, and a chunk of concrete explodes from the wall just inches from my head.
I scream again, a raw, terrified sound.
I hear a curse from Adrian, then a roar of a different kind—the sharp, deafening crack of his own weapon firing back.
I hear a shout from below. Then another.
Another shot from Adrian's weapon.
Silence.
I don't stop. I can't. I keep climbing, fueled by a fear so primal it eclipses everything else.
The door to our floor appears ahead of us. A small rectangle of light. Hope.
Get to the conference room. Call Roberto.
Even if Adrian stops.
The thought of it is so terrifying that I have to force myself to keep moving.
I fumble with the bar, my hands shaking so hard I can barely get a grip on it.
Before Adrian can open it, the door opens on its own, and Roberto stands there, gun drawn, expression cold and deadly.
"Down," he barks, and I don't hesitate. I hit the floor as shots ring out from the stairwell.
Roberto returns fire, the shots deafening in the small space.
