I take the stairs instead of the elevator, two at a time, until I reach my floor. Outside my room, I pause, listening. Muffled sobbing comes from inside. I unlock the door and push it open to find Minny pacing frantically, phone clutched in her grip.
“Oh, thank God!” she cries, rushing toward me. “Is she okay? She sounded terrified on the phone.”
“She's safe,” I cut her off, moving past her to grab my backpack. “We’re leaving.”
“We?”
“I don’t have time for twenty questions. We're going to your room now. Pack everything—yours and Charlotte's. Five minutes, no more.”
I check the hallway before leading her out, keeping my body between her and any potential threat. My hand rests on the knife concealed at my waist, ready to draw at the slightest provocation. The corridor remains empty as we make our way to the elevator.
We descend in silence, the cheerful elevator music a jarring contrast to the tension radiating between us. When we reach her floor, I scan the hallway before allowing her to exit.
I position myself by the door of their room as she swipes the keycard. “Pack now, talk later,” I remind her as we enter.
Minny moves with surprising efficiency, throwing Charlotte's belongings into her suitcase while I stand guard. I keep my back to the wall, eyes fixed on the door, ears straining for any suspicious sounds.
She zips the last suitcase and turns to face me, “I need to know something. Are you using my best friend?”
I turn, my jaw clenching, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. She's been through hell, and she's vulnerable. If you're just looking for an easy lay?—”
“Watch your fucking mouth. That woman means more to me than you could possibly understand.”
“After two days?”
“After two fucking minutes.” I step closer, and she doesn't back down. I respect that. “I'd die before I let anyone hurt her. You got that?”
“Okay. But if you break her heart?—”
“I won't. We need to move.”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe.” I grab her bag and Charlotte's.
We head back toward the elevator, but I stop short when I hear voices echoing from the stairwell. Male voices, talking in low, urgent tones.
“Check the room again. She has to come back eventually.”
“Fuck,” I breathe, grabbing Minny's arm and pulling her back down the hallway. “We're taking the freight elevator.”
“What's wrong?” she whispers, stumbling to keep up with my pace.
“They're here.”
I find the service elevator at the end of the hall, jamming the call button repeatedly. The voices grow closer, footsteps echoing in the stairwell. The elevator doors slide open with agonizing slowness, and I shove Minny inside, hitting the button for the parking garage.
“What if they hurt Charlie?”
“They won't get the chance.” The elevator lurches downward, and I pull out my phone, speed-dialing V. He answers on the first ring.
“How's our girl?”
“Alive. But they're at the hotel looking for her. I need you to run interference, and her friend needs a lift.”
“On it. I'm cutting the hotel's security feeds now. Looping old footage so they can't track your movements. What else do you need?”
