Shayna's head butted down badly against the glass table as a stream of panic issued by the people around her.
Her hands immediately reached towards her waist, searching for the familiar weight of her gun, before her eyes widened in horrific realisation.
Her gun was not there.
Her fingers moved over her waist again, almost as if the gun might magically appear if she searched hard enough.
Out of all times.....
Another bullet whizzed past her head as Rocco fired again, making her instinctively duck. She could hear the loud crack of the gunshot ringing in her ears as the bullet disappeared somewhere behind her.
She crawled backwards, her palms pressing against the cold floor as she tried to put as much distance between herself and Rocco as possible. Her eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for somewhere she could hide.
A third shot rang through the room.
Shayna flinched as the bullet struck the edge of the furniture beside her, sending tiny pieces flying across the floor. She immediately threw herself towards the stone wall, pressing her back against it as she tried to catch her breath.
Rocco was meanwhile advancing towards her, shooting freely as he inched closer.
Every time Shayna tried to move, another bullet forced her back into cover. Her breathing became heavier as she glanced around, trying to find an escape route.
Call Rebel. Call.....shit!
I don't have my phone with me.
She cursed silently, her fingers digging into the floor as she looked towards the doorway. It was too far. She wouldn't make it.
Rocco shot the kitchen wall, a large dent forming where the bullet struck. Shayna instinctively ducked, her heart pounding as she felt dust fall over her hair and shoulders.
"Rocco!" she screamed involuntarily as he continued to advance towards her, his eyes dazed.
She tried to move sideways, keeping herself close to the wall, but another gunshot forced her to stop. Her body was already tense from trying to anticipate where the next bullet would come from.
I can't die today. I never ate lobster. I didn't even get to sit on a hot air balloon.
Then another shot rang through the room.
A sharp pain shot through her arm as the bullet hit her. Her entire arm jerked backwards from the impact, and she stared at it for a second, almost unable to understand what had happened.
"Fuck!"
Blood began soaking through the fabric of her tight shirt, running down her arm and dripping onto the cold, hard floor. Her fingers trembled as she pressed her other hand against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
It hurt like hell.
Her breathing became uneven as she looked up again.
Rocco was still coming towards her.
Shayna tried to push herself further backwards, but her back was already against the wall.
There was nowhere left to go.
Rocco was now directly in front of her, his face unmoving.
Shayna stared at him, her injured arm pressed tightly against herself as her vision began to blur.
And that was the last she remembered before her vision went completely black.
....
Thud.
Her head was still throbbing violently when she opened her eyes. She was lying on something soft, with a pale bluish light glowing above her.
She could feel something rough pressing against her left arm, right over the spot where she'd been shot. Her tight clothes had been replaced with something soft and airy, and she could feel someone's gaze fixed on her.
"You're up," Theodore's voice rang out from the other corner of the room.
His face was tense as he walked towards her, his right hand straightening his leather jacket.
"What happened in the coffee shop?" he asked slowly, but there was no hint of concern in his voice.
Shayna shrank into the bed, her fist gripping the bedsheets around her.
Rocco was a well-known hitman and was on the FBI's wanted list. His pictures were there on every other telephone pole in the city.
There was no way he would not know.
"Rocco?" Shayna whispered, her brain working hard. "I think he mistook me for being with Williams."
Please believe it.
"Huh?" She could feel Theodore's mouth twitch. "What are you talking about?"
Wait. Doesn't he know Rocco?
"You don't....." Shayna began, confused.
"Of course I know Rocco," he replied, running a hand through his messy hair. "But that wasn't Rocco. There was some Greek idiot with you in his lap."
"Greek?" she asked, her mind immediately jumping to Dimitri. "What did he look like?"
"Tall, had a weird serpent tattoo on his neck, light bluish eyes," Theodore recounted.
So, not Dmitri.
"What did you see when you came in?" Shayna asked, her tone suddenly questioning.
"A bunch of cop cars around the café. You were passed out in a Greek man's lap, and he was bandaging your wound. He told me to take you to the hospital."
So, that Greek man saved me?
"Okay," Shayna replied, simply realizing Oz would be better off not roping Theodore into that kind of situation.
"Wait, I'm not done," Theodore asked, placing his hand on Shayna's forehead. "What does Rocco have to do with any of it?"
"Well, he was the one who shot me," Shayna replied, her mind briefly distracted by Theodore's cologne. "But like I said, I think he mistook me for someone else."
Theodore's eyebrows furrowed, and Shayna could feel him tensing, even though it looked like he believed her.
Rocco worked with no strings attached. That was his thing. He was not affiliated with anyone in the mafia, and killed for the sole purpose of money.
Which meant that someone had hired him to kill her.
Unfortunately for her, there were too many possible suspects.
Damian Fraser.
The Russian Mob.
And Lynx.
Theodore turned to her immediately, his hand still resting against his forehead.
Had she said the last part aloud?
"So, you don't think Rocco was after you?" His voice was slightly less tense than before.
"No," Shayna replied, confidently lying through her teeth.
Theodore's jaw relaxed as his hand moved absently across his forehead, his mouth humming a children's song.
"I have some good news for you," Theodore said awkwardly, pulling his hand off as he noticed Shayna staring. "You got that William deal."
Do I look like I care?
"Wow, I'm so happy," Shayna clapped sarcastically. "I could have died, but at least the company will get to have their deal signed on my dead ass. I'm so damn lucky."
"Hey, you were the one on my ass about it till midnight yesterday," Theodore replied. "You probably wouldn't even have let me go home if you didn't have to smoke in the office."
"The hell?!" Shayna's face contorted with fury. "You were standing around and eavesdropping on me?"
"More like smelling? What kind of cigars do you use anyway? They smell like rotting shit," Theodore fired back.
"Uhh, expensive ones?" Shayna replied, her face red. "And don't you dare steer away from the topic? Why the hell were you standing outside the door when I told you to get out?"
"I..." Theodore faltered. "I wasn't sure what you meant."
"Oh yeah," Shayna breathed heavily. "What part of 'Get the fuck out' were you not sure about?"
Theodore muttered something under his breath.
"I hope you remember that I'm your boss, Mr James, and this behavior of yours was not professional at all."
"Neither is touching yourself while watching gay porn on the office table, though," Theodore muttered sarcastically.
It was Shayna's turn to go red, her face flushing beetroot red.
"You... motherfuckin' rascal," Shayna let out every curse she knew in English. When she was done, she repeated it all in Scottish while Theodore just stared at her, unamused.
"You done?" he said, yawning, when Shayna finally stopped to take a breath.
"Just wait," she replied, her breath hitched. "I'm gonna fire your ass as soon as I step outside this stupid hospital room."
"You wouldn't," Theodore grinned menacingly. "Unless you want me to show the video I made to Craig about what you did in his office."
That's fucking it.
"You're right, I'm not gonna report you," she replied. "Because I'm gonna fucking strangle your dainty little neck and..."
"Tut, tut," Theodore said. "A little too violent, are we? Do you want me to share this video?"
Shayna screamed internally. One part of her wanted to rip out all the cords and beat the crap out of the man standing in front of her.
But the other part restrained. The job, which even though she hated, was her only sense of normalcy, her one chance to living her dream life.
If Lucas found out that she had left her job, he would rope her completely into the mafia.
And she was never gonna let that happen.
"Hmmm," she muttered, her voice calmer than before.
"I was lying. I didn't actually do it," Theodore muttered quickly, noticing the change of expressions on Shayna's face. "I was just trying to protect my job and all. I am not that kind of a guy at all."
Shayna's face relaxed with relief before contorting with anger again.
This motherfucker.
"I'm gonna give you ten seconds to get the fuck out of here," she muttered slowly.
"Okay," Theodore muttered, alarmed. "Are you still gonna..."
"No," Shayna replied. "You got the deal done and you helped me here. But if I find out that you were standing by the door..."
"I won't," Theodore turned on his heel and quickly went away.
Shayna's eyes remained fixated on the door, her mind feeling somebody watching her.
This idiot.
"I know you're still..."
Her voice got stuck in her throat as an unfamiliar Greek face stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.