Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
The guy didn’t speak but I thought I saw his eyes harden and his shoulders set. He was as stubborn as me. I knew in my gut that I was looking at their leader. He wasn’t going to back down.
Which was a problem because he could just wait this out and we couldn’t. Sooner or later, one of his goons was going to come along and then I’d have two guns on me and it would all be over. I couldn’t move but I couldn’t stay here, either.
But there was one thing I could do. I could get them safe.
“Very slowly,” I told Lorna, “move back down the alley. We passed a door. See if it’s unlocked.”
I didn’t take my eyes off the guy in front of me: even a split second would be fatal. I heard the scrape of Lorna’s sneakers in the dirt behind me and I saw the guy tense, pissed that she was getting away. But he didn’t dare move his gun to shoot her.
“It’s open,” Lorna said behind me. Her voice was strained but she was staying calm, doing what I told her. Good girl.
“What’s in there?” I asked.
“A workshop.”
“Does it look like there’s a back way out?”
A second’s silence while she looked. “There’s a window that opens.”
“Okay. Take your kid and go. Lock the door behind you, go through the window and run, you hear me? Don’t stop running ‘till you get somewhere safe.”
Silence for a few seconds. Then, “Not without you.”
My eyes still hadn’t left the guy in front of me. “Just go, dammit!”
“No!” There was panic in her voice. Like the idea of leaving me behind hurt. And that hit me right in the gut, harder than it should have.
I heard her sneakers scrape the dirt again and I relaxed. But then I frowned because her steps were coming toward me.
A second later, I caught a waft of orange blossom and coconut, and then her palm was pressing between my shoulder blades. “I can’t move,” I growled. “Can’t take my eyes off this guy.”
“I know,” she said. “Four steps back.”
I hesitated. I didn’t like her risking her neck for me. But I got the feeling that arguing with her wasn’t going to work, either. I took a deep, slow breath…and stepped backward.
The guy in front of me stepped forwards. A drop of sweat rolled down my forehead but I didn’t dare lift a hand to wipe it away.
“Three more,” said Lorna behind me.
I walked slowly backward. The other guy matched me, advancing as I retreated.
“There’s a step up, a foot behind you,” Lorna told me. “About four inches high.”
I lifted my foot and felt for it. If I tripped now, it was all over. But it was right where she’d said it would be. And now I was next to the open door. I saw the guy’s eyes narrow.
Lorna’s hands gripped my shoulders, her fingers cool through my shirt. She guided me as I edged in, keeping my gun on the guy until the very last second—
I slammed the door and locked it, then raced with her through the workshop. There was a window, just like she’d said, high up on the opposite wall. Without asking permission, I grabbed her by the waist and lifted her. She opened the window and slithered through. I grabbed the kid and passed him up and as soon as he’d scrambled through, I jumped and hauled myself up, grunting and cursing as I squeezed my shoulders through the tight gap.
We emerged on a street. I grabbed Lorna’s hand, she grabbed the kid’s hand and we ran. This was our one chance to disappear and we couldn’t afford to miss it. We turned corner after corner, losing ourselves. “Is there someplace safe you can go?” I asked her.
“The hotel,” she said immediately. “The Majestic.”
I nodded. I knew it and it wasn’t far. “You got someone there? Husband, boyfriend?”
She didn’t answer for a moment. Then she opened her mouth, but the kid got there first. “They’re divorced.”
“My brother will be there,” Lorna said. “And my dad…if he made it back okay.”
I nodded. Her dad, I thought as we ran. The silver-haired guy in the suit in the other car was her dad.
We rounded a corner and the hotel was right in front of us. The black SUV Lorna’s dad had been riding in was parked out front, its bodywork scraped and crumpled, and the police had sealed off the street, probably worried the gunmen would try again.
I ditched the gun in a trashcan. We had to show ID to the cops just to be allowed close to the hotel. As we approached the steps that led up to the entrance, I saw Lorna’s shoulders slump in relief. I turned to her. “You’re gonna be alright, now. Get inside and—”