My heart hammers so loudly I'm certain anyone walking by would hear it. The loading dock remains quiet except for a distant forklift beeping somewhere around the corner.
“Why would they target me? I'm nobody.”
His breathing grows heavier, like he's running now, “I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out.” The deadly calm in his tone sends shivers down my spine, “And when I do, someone's going to bleed.”
The service door bangs open, and I shrink deeper into the shadows, terror freezing my blood. I hold my breath, listening.
“Charlotte!”
Relief floods through me as I scramble out from between the dumpsters, “Here!”
He spots me immediately, his massive frame silhouetted against the sunlight. In three long strides, he reaches me, pulling me against his chest so fiercely I lose my breath. His arms wrap around me like steel bands, one hand cradling the back of my head as he buries his face in my hair. His body is rigid with tension, every muscle coiled like he's ready to snap.
“Are you hurt?” he demands.
“No,” I answer, clinging to him.
Thor pulls back just enough to scan my face. His hands frame my cheeks, thumbs brushing over my skin as if checking for injuries himself.
“I need to get you out of here.”
“What about Minny? What if they figure out where our room is?”
“She’s in my room. She’ll be safe there. Once I get you out, I’ll come back for her.”
He guides me toward a maintenance door, his body angled to shield mine as we move. The stark hallway beyond is empty except for a startled janitor who quickly averts his eyes at Thor's menacing glare. His grip on my arm is tight but not painful as we navigate through the maze of service corridors. The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting harsh shadows across his tense face. His jaw is clenched so tight I can see a muscle twitching beneath his skin.
“Almost there,” he mutters, checking around each corner before pulling me forward.
We push through another door markedAuthorized Personnel Only, and suddenly we're in the cavernous parking garage. The air is cooler here, heavy with the scent of concrete and exhaust. Thor moves with purpose, leading me between rows of parked cars until we reach a sleek black motorcycle parked near a support pillar.
“Get on.”
I hesitate, staring at the intimidating machine, “I've never been on one of these before.”
“There's a first time for everything, princess.” His expression softens slightly as he hands me a helmet, “Just hold onto me and lean when I lean. You'll be fine.”
As I fumble with the helmet strap, Thor pulls something from his pocket—a small wireless earbud. He taps it twice and waits, scanning our surroundings.
“V, it's me,” he says tersely. “Need a safe house.” He pauses, listening, “No, I can’t explain right now. Just fucking do it.”
Thor grabs the helmet from my hands and secures it onto my head, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his gruff exterior. I climb onto the motorcycle behind him, my heart racing with amix of fear and excitement. As he revs the engine, I cling tightly to his waist, feeling the powerful vibrations beneath me.
Without a word, Thor takes off, weaving expertly through the garage. The wind rushes past us, whipping my hair back and filling my lungs with a sense of freedom I've never experienced before. In this moment, with my arms wrapped around Thor, I feel strangely safe despite the danger that surrounds us.
THOR
The world narrowsto a single purpose as I speed through the streets of Vegas—keep Charlotte alive.
V comes through with the address within minutes of my call, sending coordinates to a discreet Airbnb tucked away in a quiet neighborhood off the Strip. The stucco house looks like any other on the block—beige exterior, desert landscaping, detached garage—perfect for disappearing.
I cut the engine and feel Charlotte's arms loosen from their death grip around my waist. She's been trembling against myback for the entire ride, her face pressed between my shoulder blades. The adrenaline that kept her moving has crashed, leaving her pale and shaky.
“We're here,” I say, swinging my leg over the bike and turning to help her. Her legs buckle as she dismounts, and I catch her easily, sweeping her against my chest, “I've got you.”
“I can walk,” she protests weakly, but her hands clutch at my cut, betraying her fear.
“Humor me.”
