Serial Story: Jasmine Betrayal, Part 10
This story is presented weekly in draft (that means unedited)
format every Friday right here on the blog for free. When the story is
done, it will be edited, polished and available for sale at all your
favorite online retailers.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |
Jasmine Betrayal
Part 10
Genevieve had just opened the floor safe that sat under a corner of the Persian rug when all hell broke loose. A short, high-pitched whistle drew her attention, and she looked up to see Max and Jenkins fall to the ground, Max on top. By the time Genevieve made it to the other side of the room, Jenkins had rolled, reversing their positions and sitting on Max’s chest, the point of his gun pressed against Max’s temple.
Blood was pooling under Max’s right side.
Reaching to the side, Genevieve grabbed the large, thick glass vase from her buffet - a gift from her father just because she’d mentioned she liked it one day. Raising it up with both hands, she brought it down hard on Jenkins’ head, connecting with a crack that made her stomach turn as the man toppled to the floor.
For a long moment she just stood there, glancing from the smear of blood on the vase to the rapidly growing pool of red under Jenkins’ head. She’d done that. She’d cracked a man’s skull open.
This. Was. Not. Happening.
Vaguely aware of Max moving below her, she stepped back, dropping the vase to the floor. It hit the rug and rolled to rest against the coffee table, leaving a thin trail of red in it’s wake.
Her knees gave out and she dropped down to the edge of the couch, staring at the body on the floor until Max’s large form blocked her view.
“We have to go,” he said, holding out a hand. “His men will be here soon if they aren’t already, and they won’t hesitate to kill us both. Come on.”
She noted his other hand pressed against his side, blood staining his fingers as it seeped through.
“You’re hurt,” she said, her brows drawing together before she remembered she shouldn’t care. “You need--”
“It’s just a scratch, and we need to get out of here. Come on, Gen. Let’s go.”
Scuffling in the hallway made her heart pound again, and she stood, ignoring his hand.
“How? We’re too high to jump, and they’re waiting for us. Where do we go?”
Max turned away to rifle through Jenkins’ pockets, holding a cell phone when he turned back again. He held it up, and then tapped on the screen for what felt like forever as Genevieve watched.
“I just sent a text to his entire list that we’re on the fifth floor instead of the fourth. Listen.”
Genevieve heard footsteps running in the hall...away from the door. “I can’t believe that actually worked,” she whispered. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” She went to the door, but Max stopped her with a hand on her arm before she could open it.
“Let me go first. I’m sure they left one or two people behind. Which way is the stairwell?”
“Left,” she said, moving back a few steps. “At the end of the hall.”
He nodded. “Count ten seconds, then come out behind me. If I haven’t cleared the hall by then, it won’t matter.” He didn’t wait for her agreement, just slipped out the door. She started counting, slowly, her lips moving but no sound coming out for fear of drawing attention.
When she got to ten, she took a deep breath and poked her head out the door, looking right first, then left.
The hall was empty - even Max had disappeared.
Knowing she had to get out of the building, she sprinted toward the stairwell and flung herself around the corner, right into a massive male form.
“Stay close,” Max said in a hushed tone, steadying her on her feet and then starting down the stairs, motioning for her to follow. She followed him to the ground floor and out through the front doors where Max slowed to a walk and looped an arm over her shoulder. She thought it was for show until he leaned in close and she remembered his injury. Slipping an arm around his waist, she tried to support him as much as she could.
“We need transportation,” he said, breathing harder than he should have been. “A car, a cab, something. Soon.” His face was pale and a glance down at the blood trail on the sidewalk was anything but reassuring.
Neither were the footsteps she could hear closing in on them from behind.
A man was getting out of his car to their right, and she veered off, bumping into his side as he went past them on the sidewalk. Ignoring the insult and matching finger directed at her, she got Max to the side of the car, glanced back to make sure the man was gone and pulled his keys out of her pocket.
Max grinned, as she unlocked the car and pushed him into the back seat.
“When this is over, I want to know where you learned how to do that,” he said.
She slid behind the wheel and gunned the engine, tires squealing on the road all around as she backed into traffic. Gunfire made her flinch as she peeled out down the street, swerving around one corner, and then then next to leave their pursuers behind.
“When this is over,” she said, meeting Max’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “I want to know everything you know about my father, and his death. Everything.”
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
format every Friday right here on the blog for free. When the story is
done, it will be edited, polished and available for sale at all your
favorite online retailers.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |
Jasmine Betrayal
Part 10
Genevieve had just opened the floor safe that sat under a corner of the Persian rug when all hell broke loose. A short, high-pitched whistle drew her attention, and she looked up to see Max and Jenkins fall to the ground, Max on top. By the time Genevieve made it to the other side of the room, Jenkins had rolled, reversing their positions and sitting on Max’s chest, the point of his gun pressed against Max’s temple.
Blood was pooling under Max’s right side.
Reaching to the side, Genevieve grabbed the large, thick glass vase from her buffet - a gift from her father just because she’d mentioned she liked it one day. Raising it up with both hands, she brought it down hard on Jenkins’ head, connecting with a crack that made her stomach turn as the man toppled to the floor.
For a long moment she just stood there, glancing from the smear of blood on the vase to the rapidly growing pool of red under Jenkins’ head. She’d done that. She’d cracked a man’s skull open.
This. Was. Not. Happening.
Vaguely aware of Max moving below her, she stepped back, dropping the vase to the floor. It hit the rug and rolled to rest against the coffee table, leaving a thin trail of red in it’s wake.
Her knees gave out and she dropped down to the edge of the couch, staring at the body on the floor until Max’s large form blocked her view.
“We have to go,” he said, holding out a hand. “His men will be here soon if they aren’t already, and they won’t hesitate to kill us both. Come on.”
She noted his other hand pressed against his side, blood staining his fingers as it seeped through.
“You’re hurt,” she said, her brows drawing together before she remembered she shouldn’t care. “You need--”
“It’s just a scratch, and we need to get out of here. Come on, Gen. Let’s go.”
Scuffling in the hallway made her heart pound again, and she stood, ignoring his hand.
“How? We’re too high to jump, and they’re waiting for us. Where do we go?”
Max turned away to rifle through Jenkins’ pockets, holding a cell phone when he turned back again. He held it up, and then tapped on the screen for what felt like forever as Genevieve watched.
“I just sent a text to his entire list that we’re on the fifth floor instead of the fourth. Listen.”
Genevieve heard footsteps running in the hall...away from the door. “I can’t believe that actually worked,” she whispered. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” She went to the door, but Max stopped her with a hand on her arm before she could open it.
“Let me go first. I’m sure they left one or two people behind. Which way is the stairwell?”
“Left,” she said, moving back a few steps. “At the end of the hall.”
He nodded. “Count ten seconds, then come out behind me. If I haven’t cleared the hall by then, it won’t matter.” He didn’t wait for her agreement, just slipped out the door. She started counting, slowly, her lips moving but no sound coming out for fear of drawing attention.
When she got to ten, she took a deep breath and poked her head out the door, looking right first, then left.
The hall was empty - even Max had disappeared.
Knowing she had to get out of the building, she sprinted toward the stairwell and flung herself around the corner, right into a massive male form.
“Stay close,” Max said in a hushed tone, steadying her on her feet and then starting down the stairs, motioning for her to follow. She followed him to the ground floor and out through the front doors where Max slowed to a walk and looped an arm over her shoulder. She thought it was for show until he leaned in close and she remembered his injury. Slipping an arm around his waist, she tried to support him as much as she could.
“We need transportation,” he said, breathing harder than he should have been. “A car, a cab, something. Soon.” His face was pale and a glance down at the blood trail on the sidewalk was anything but reassuring.
Neither were the footsteps she could hear closing in on them from behind.
A man was getting out of his car to their right, and she veered off, bumping into his side as he went past them on the sidewalk. Ignoring the insult and matching finger directed at her, she got Max to the side of the car, glanced back to make sure the man was gone and pulled his keys out of her pocket.
Max grinned, as she unlocked the car and pushed him into the back seat.
“When this is over, I want to know where you learned how to do that,” he said.
She slid behind the wheel and gunned the engine, tires squealing on the road all around as she backed into traffic. Gunfire made her flinch as she peeled out down the street, swerving around one corner, and then then next to leave their pursuers behind.
“When this is over,” she said, meeting Max’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “I want to know everything you know about my father, and his death. Everything.”
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotic Romance | Contemporary Romance |
Horror | Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
**Please
note - If this is your first time posting, your comment
will be moderated. Once you have been approved, future comments will post automatically.
No comments have been added yet.
