The first line of the mob spilled inside.
Their faces twisted and their hands reaching me. I closed my eyes, bracing for the impact of a hundred hands, a hundred feet. I thought of my mother. I thought of Daniel. I whispered a silent goodbye to a life that had turned into a nightmare.
Suddenly, a hand – strong, calloused, and firm, clutched the collar of my jacket. I was wrenched backward so hard my head snapped. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I was dragged across the floor, the cold marble biting into my palms, until I was pulled behind the heavy granite of the security desk.
"Stay down," a voice hissed.
It was a low, raspy growl, muffled by a black tactical mask. The man was dressed in dark gear, smelling of salt, oil, and the sharp, metallic scent of rain. He didn't look
