Alright, so I did post a new update onbut I won't be posting another one for a while. Besides the fact that my finals for the year are coming up, I also signed a contract to put on another platform, so, I kind of really have to finish it.

Before you all start jumping to conclusions, yes will still be completed and on wattpad. I'm not taking it down, I just have to finish it faster than I planned

Fortunately, there are only six chapters left, not including this one, and only have four of them left to actually write.

So, yeah. I have to finish it.

Anyway, enjoy!

I now wish, more than anything, that I had just stayed in the hotel with Ryder.

Yes, maybe I would have still ended up running for the rest of my life, but at least it would have been with him. And now, I'll never get the chance to tell him the truth. To tell him exactly what he means to me.

I slowly creep out of my hiding place after I watch him pass by. No way I intend to be caught by him again. No. I intend to catch him off guard. I intend to end this.

I walk quietly without making a sound, each step confident, unlike how I feel.

The gun is gripped firmly in my hands as I walk toward the doorway he disappeared through. I hear the floor creak behind me and whirl around with the gun raised, but there's nothing there.

I go to turn back the doorway behind me when I'm grabbed from behind. One arm pins my arms-especially the one with gun-to my sides and another covers my mouth.

"Tell me," The arm around me tightens as I struggle to pull myself free. "What exactly was your plan here?"

I feel like I can't breathe. I struggle and struggle to get out of his hold but it's useless. I'm not going anywhere. I feel tears well up in my eyes and I try to blink them back. There are no words to describe the sheer terror running through my veins.

Yes, I knew it was likely I was going to die. No, that doesn't mean I want to die.

"I mean on a stupidity scale . . . this plan is . . . above the scale."

It's only after he says that, that I actually hear the voice whispering in my ear.

I feel myself sag against him in relief and he releases the hand from my mouth, but still keeps me pinned to him.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," I mutter.

He's the devil.

But then again, I knew this already.

That's the only explanation I can come up with for why he just appears out of thin air every time I'm thinking of him. Like he's been summoned.

"There's no need for the language, rusty."

"Hypocrite," I growl out suddenly very angry with him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Keeping you from getting killed," Ryder replies quietly. "I thought that was obvious."

The anger I'm feeling with him is slowly being replaced by panic. He cannot be here. He can't. I can't lose him. He needs to leave. Now.

Unfortunately, I'm smart enough to know the probability of getting rid of him.

There isn't one.

"How did you know where I was?" I whisper hiss at him.

He turns me around slowly to face him and reaches down, taking the gun from my hand. "That's a complicated question. And a longer story than it should be because someone threw out the trackers I put on her."

I knew there something off about his food offering.

"You knew I was going to run," I mutter dejectedly. "That still doesn't explain how you found me though."

"As I said, it is a long story . . . that ends with me threatening a hitman."

"You did what?!" I shout and he immediately claps his hand over my mouth and pulls me into a different room, hiding us behind the door.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Ryder hisses as he peers around the door, keeping me pinned between him and the wall the entire time.

He looks down at me after he determines the coast is clear, for now. "If I take my hand away, are you going to start yelling at me again?"

I roll my eyes and shake my head. He removes his hand from my mouth.

"Oh yeah," He suddenly whispers before slipping his hand into his jacket pocket and pulling something out of it. He hands it to me.

After I've taken it-cautiously, might I add-I discover it's the glasses I was wearing before. The ones with the tracker in them.

I glare at him but know it's most likely wasted because of the dark room. I put the glasses on over my eyes. "Trying to keep track of me, are you?"

"What was that?" He questions quietly. "Oh, thank you, Ryder. You're my hero. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're welcome carrot top. It was no problem." His representation of me is way too high pitched and way too into flattering his already massive ego.

He looks back over his shoulder and peers around the door once again, keeping watch for Volkov.

"We need a plan," I whisper.

Ryder's hands, which happen to be on my hips, tighten and he seems to lean into me more in a protective kind of way. As if trying to shield me from invisible bullets. I would almost be grateful if it didn't mean he was putting himself in harms way instead. Selfless Idiot.

"I have a plan," Ryder informs me. He doesn't bother to elaborate on this imaginary plan, however.

He listens intently to something. "He's gone back down to the second floor." He turns and starts to pull me with him, out of our hiding place and out of the cover of darkness.

I stop him, planting my feet firmly in the ground and making him turn back toward me. Yes, I'm more than aware he could have just continued dragging me behind him without a problem and right now I'm grateful he didn't. Because I finally have a chance to tell him the truth . . . before anything happens.

"Ryder," I whisper and then can't seem to get any more words out. The thought of something possibly happening to him right now is . . . unbearable.

His hand brushes over my cheek. "I promise you'll be safe," He whispers.

I feel my heart break. "It's not me I'm worried about."

"Nine lives."

I glare at him even if he can't see me clearly. "That's not a thing."

"It is in my family."

I hit him and I can feel him shaking from silent laughter. He's not taking any of this seriously and I feel like hitting him again.

He goes to pull away and continue on but I stop him again.

"You asked me what I said," I start quietly.

I notice he tilts his head to the side curiously. "When?"

"When I said something in French."

"Matchstick you said a lot of things in French. Several of which I could guess were not very nice words."

"Just shut up," I hiss quietly. "I'm getting to a point here."

To my surprise, he actually listens.

I blow out a sigh. "I said . . . something, but now I realize that I didn't mean . . . that. Or at least, not exactly that." I close the distance between us and wrap my hands around his neck, pulling him down to me. "In case I never get the chance to say it again," I whisper. "Je t'adore."

"And that means?" He asks me.

I shake my head. "I'll tell you if we make it out of here," I tell him before pressing my lips against his softly.

He pulls me into him and deepens the kiss. When he finally pulls away I can feel his gaze on my face. He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, but his hands seem to be shaking.

Something's wrong. Something's off.

"When," He says softly. "When . . . you get out of here."

I tense up at his words. My breath catching in my throat as I realize what he means and before I can dispute anything he's said, I feel the familiar cool metal around my wrist.

"Ryder," I whisper in disbelief as I pull at the cuff chaining me to the doorknob of the door. I look back up at him and he gives me a mock salute.

"See ya, gingersnap," He says before turning and walking out of the room. He lets out a loud whistle. "Honey, I'm home!" He shouts at the top of his lungs.

"Ryder no!" I shout after him but he's making enough noise for Volkov to hear him and only him. I yank and pull at the handcuff, trying to get myself free. Wanting nothing more than to stop Ryder and handcuff him to the damn door.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

I continue to listen to his shouts and insults as I try to find anything that could be used to pick the lock.

"Oi! Shithead! I haven't got all day. I'm supposed to be meeting Damien for dinner!"

"Idiot," I growl as I pull at the handcuffs. "Selfless freaking idiot."

Suddenly, gunshots break out.

I suck in a sharp breath and feel tears sting my eyes as I listen to the gunshots. Fortunately, I know that as long as the shots are going on, that means they're both still alive. Unfortunately, as soon as the shots stop, I won't know which one is alive and which one is . . . dead.

I frantically look around for anything that can help me get loose. The mints! I suddenly think.

I dig into my pocket with my free hand and take out one of the trays of mints. I open it up and stare at the circuitry inside, as well as the thin pieces of metal holding everything in place. I bend one before pulling it out and bending into the shape I need before I'm picking the lock and the handcuff is falling from my wrist.

I notice that the gunshots have abruptly ceased, but before I can leave the room to determine who's won, I hear someone shout out.

"Missed me!"

The gunshots start back up immediately and I don't know whether to laugh in relief that he's still alive or cry. I run out of the room in time to see Volkov charge Ryder, knocking his gun from his hand.

Both them land on the floor next to each other and waste no time in throwing punches at each other. Ryder appears to be winning, until Volkov slams his gun into Ryder's head, causing him to stumble back. Volkov gets to his feet and swings his leg into Ryder's gut.

"I'm going to enjoy this," He growls as he aims his gun at Ryder.

I grab a long slab of wood from the floor and run up, bringing the slab down on Volkov's back and then swing it back around and knock him off his feet.

"Nicky!" I hear Ryder shout a second before I'm pulled to the ground and Volkov's hands are around my throat. I scratch and claw at his hands before he's yanked off by Ryder and thrown away. Ryder helps me to my feet and then takes a stance between me and Volkov.

Ryder takes a second to look over his shoulder at me. "Next time, I'm just going to superglue you to something," He says.

"Ryder!" I shout as I point at Volkov who's charging at him.

Ryder picks up the wooden slab from the floor. "Batter up!" He shouts before he swings the slab into Volkov just before he can get to him.

It barely fazes Volkov and then they're both throwing punches and slamming each other into things.

"Nicky, the gun!" Ryder calls out to me.

I look around quickly, knocking pieces of broken furniture out of the way and barely dodging both of them as I search for the gun.

"Anytime now!" Ryder says sarcastically.

"I'm looking!" I shout as I run my hands over every dark surface on the floor, trying desperately to find the discarded gun.

"Look faster!"

I hear him let out a shout a moment later and turn in time to watch him crash into an old table. I wince before continuing to crawl on my hands and knees looking for the gun.

A hand clamps down on my ankle and starts pulling me across the floor. I let out a startled scream as I kick at Volkov's hold on me.

"Oh no you don't," Ryder growls as he wraps an arm around Volkov's throat from behind. "Drop it. Bad dog, drop it."

Ryder forcefully pulls Volkov's grip off me and I move away quickly, going back to looking for the gun.

After what feels like an eternity listening to both them pound into each other, my hand finally closes over the cool metal of the gun. I nearly shout in relief.

"Ryder! I found it!" I call out.

I turn to see Volkov with his arm around Ryder's throat and Ryder struggling to pull himself free.

"Take the shot," He manages to say.

I look from the gun in my hands to Volkov and Ryder in disbelief. I'm fairly certain Ryder knows just how bad my aim is.

"But-"

"Take the damn shot!" Ryder growls out.

I aim the gun at Volkov, but both he and Ryder keep moving, continuing to struggle with each other. I aim as best I can, waiting to close my eyes and fire, but I don't. I pull the trigger.

Volkov jumps back, releasing his hold on Ryder and Ryder turns around quickly and pushes him back, knocking him through the hole I had blown in the floor. I watch as he tries to grab hold of something but instead just continues to fall until he's out of sight.

Ryder stares at the hole from a safe distance away. "Carrot top," He says after a moment of silence. "We need to work on your shooting skills."

I frown at him. "What are you talking about? I hit him."

He shakes his head. "No, you startled him. You shot me." He gestures to the blood seeping through a wound in his leg.

I suddenly feel sick. "Oh my gosh," I mutter. "Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh."

Ryder rolls his eyes and walks over to me, pulling me into him. "I'll live," He says. "Don't sweat it."

He walks back over to the hole and looks down before suddenly tensing up. "He's not there," He says.

Panic and terror flood through me once more. "What?"

"He's not there, he's gone." Ryder runs a hand through his hair and swears before turning back to me. "Come on. We're getting out of here. Now. We'll deal with him-"

He's cut off by a gunshot. Loud and deafening.

Ryder's face contorts in pain and he looks down at the red blood blossoming from his chest. And I can't keep the scream from escaping my mouth.