think. I have to do something before I pass out. Kicking out with my heel, I come into contact with my attacker’s leg.
He grunts in pain. It’s definitely a he.
Okay, then.
Reaching back with one hand, I make a grab for his twig and berries. Hit them where it hurts, my self-defense trainer said.
With a muffled curse, my attacker slams me forward into the glass front of the vending machine. Glass rattles under the impact. Candy bars thud to the bottom of the receptacle. Someone had to have heard that.
My eyes water as the tang of metal hits my tongue. My fear spikes higher, clawing its way up my spine until it threatens to consume me. I have to get away before I’m seriously injured. Or worse.
Images of the bruises around Adrienne’s neck fill my thoughts, further fueling my panic.
Wrestling my mind away from the cliffs of abject panic, I home in on what I know. The man who attacked my sister is long gone. He can’t be the one doing this to me. Then who?
I have to focus. I can do this.
Taking breaths through my nose, I try to get a whiff of my attacker’s scent. It’s generic bar soap, so no help. I’ve got to get a look at this guy.
Kicking with all my strength, I hit my attacker’s shin again. A louder cry of pain is my reward.
Heavy hands thrust me forward, slamming me into the vending machine again. More brutal than the first time. My nose spurts blood. The fabric of the cloth bag bunches in my mouth, gagging me. Hot blood trickles down my throat. My lungs burn as I struggle to inhale.
When my attacker rasps a threat into my ear, my every muscle goes rigid.
“Stop looking into Rook’s death, or I’ll kill you.”
21
Cool air rushes around me as I’m freed from his cruel grip. Footsteps thud along the hallway, receding. Whoever was trying to hurt me is gone.
My hands tremble as I pull at the cloth over my head, but can’t get it off. Wilting, I lean against the wall for support.
Footsteps bang up the hallway toward me. He’s coming back to finish me off.
My legs give out and I slump to the floor. I thrash my hands, trying to get the cloth off my head, but I’m shaking too badly. The combination of fear and adrenaline has flatlined my control of my fingers.
The fabric is whisked off my head, and Ricardo’s is the first face I see. Behind him, Adrienne and Cal are staring at me with wide eyes. My sister’s face is ghastly pale in the low light. Mikhail looms over their shoulders, scanning me with military precision. His eyes narrow.
“What happened here?” he asks, voice demanding.
“Good God, Charlotte. Are you okay?” Gathering me into his arms, Ricardo tries to pull me into his lap.
“Don’t touch me,” I say hoarsely, pulling away from him and curling into a ball against the wall. Panic has kept its seat on the throne of my mind. “I don’t need your help.”
My heart is slamming against my ribcage, all too aware of how close I was to suffocating back there. I’ve always felt safe within the walls of the academy, but after this? I don’t know.
Adrienne crouches down beside me, holding out a hesitant hand. “Who did this to you? Misha, go find him,” she says to Mikhail over her shoulder.
The bodyguard gives a tight nod before disappearing down the corridor, moving between the shadowed doorways like a ghost. He’s broad, but stealthy. Hopefully he catches whoever did this so I can make them pay.
And I will make them pay. Daddy is important enough. I bet he could get the press to call it an assassination attempt. Which is exactly what it felt like. The press would slaughter them in the court of public opinion. They’d be ruined.
“What can we do? Let us help you,” Adrienne says, putting a feather-light hand on my shoulder.
I take a deep breath, stuffing down the urge to burst into tears. I will not let them see me cry. “I just want to go to my room. And a candy bar.”
“Got it.” Ricardo pops to a stand. In a moment, the machine whirs and he holds out a Dairy Milk and a Toblerone. “I didn’t know which one you wanted,” he says, looking sheepish, “so I got both.”
Snatching them away, I mumble a grudging thanks. The boy knows my favorite chocolate bars. Taking my hand, he hoists me off the floor.
I refuse