The concrete dust settling on Jane’s tongue tasted like pulverized bone.
Nobody moved. The heavy, suffocating silence following Michael’s whisper wasn't empty; it was a vacuum waiting to be filled with violence. Up in the dark stairwell, a heavy iron lock hit the floor with a dull, sickening clang.
Ryan scrambled backward, his expensive leather shoes slipping on the damp concrete. The arrogant, ticking jaw was gone. The catalog-model perfection was melting off his face, leaving behind the pale, slick terror of a boy who suddenly realized he was locked in a cage with a predator he’d spent years pretending to understand.
"Aim at the door!" Ryan shrieked, his voice cracking an octave too high. "Shoot anything that comes through that door!"
The two enforcers raised their automatic rifles,
