by Jus Accardo
His free hand cupped my backside and pushed.
“Hey!” I snapped as the warmth from his hand seeped through my jeans. “Watch the hand.”
He gave another good shove. “Are you serious? I think we’ve got more important things to worry about than me accidentally copping a feel. Besides, there’s nothing there to cop. You’ve got, like, no ass.”
I managed to get my leg out after several awkward tries that included banging my head against the sill twice and jarring my shoulder. A moment later, my foot found the ledge and I let go of the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. It wasn’t easy, but I extracted myself from the window—everything except my left hand, which was still attached to Shaun’s right one.
A loud noise came from beyond the bathroom door. “Move it! I think they made it past the door.”
Shaun peered out the window and took a deep breath, stuffing his leather jacket through the hole. “Hold this,” he said, swinging a leg out.
He reached up and grabbed the rim of the window, yanking my arm and bracing himself as he hefted upward. With the extra leverage, he was able to swing his legs through. It was a tight fit, but it was working.
He managed to shimmy out an inch at a time, right hand awkwardly hanging out the window while the left was above his head, still in the room trying to keep him steady. His feet touched the ledge, shoulders slipping past the sill, as the bathroom door crashed inward.
“Grab them!” someone shouted.
I tugged on his right arm as a tall man with an angry scowl and a buzz cut came forward and yanked hard on the left. Shaun leaned toward me, but he was at an odd angle—torso still between the ledge and the room—so it didn’t do much good. Slowly, inch by inch, we were losing and he was slipping back inside. If they dragged him in, then I was right behind.
Giving another, harder pull, I teetered to the left, almost losing my balance. For a second, everything froze. I hovered on the rim of the ledge, not off it—but not on it, either. The only thing that kept me from toppling over the side was Shaun. He’d jerked back on his arm—the one I was attached to—and I shot forward, face smashing hard against the building. The brick bit into tender flesh, stinging my lower lip as my head bounced off the corner of the sill. My eyes watered.
“Son of a bi—” The rest of Shaun’s curse was cut off by a smashing sound. A hollow echo that reverberated through my bones. “Pull!” he yelled—and I did.
Only I pulled a little too hard.
With my help, Shaun managed to free himself from the window, but the momentum didn’t stop there. It continued forward, sending him—and me—over the edge.
Into the water.
Chapter Four
The fall was fast—seconds—but there was still plenty of time to freak. We only needed to miss the water by inches and we’d end up cracked wide open like Humpty Dumpty. On the other hand, we only needed to clear the water by inches to end up underneath it.
In my mind, it was lose/lose all around.
The falling sensation came to an abrupt stop, replaced by an all-over sting and fierce burning in my lungs. Going against every impulse in my body, I forced my eyes open and tried to see which way the surface was, but everything was blurry. Floating colors and shapeless blobs. Panic evicted common sense and I sucked in a lungful of warm chlorine water, which, of course, made me panic even more.
I flailed my arms—or, at least I thought I did. It was hard to tell. Everything was getting heavy. My chest hurt and my eyes felt numb. This was it. I was going to die. Never having been to Italy. Never having known what it was like to hold down a legit job. Never having sex… Drowned like a rat in a swimming pool that was open in October.
But just when I felt like my body couldn’t take any more, my head broke the surface of the water and an entirely new pain bloomed as I greedily inhaled good old-fashioned oxygen.
Shaun dragged me to the edge by the chain, both of us coughing and gagging on the foul water. He pulled himself from the pool, barely standing upright before fishing me from the water.
Above our heads, people gathered at their windows. One in particular caught my eye. He was standing in the window of our room, looking down at us. The hood of a dark-gray sweatshirt concealed his face, but I could see his fingers. On the pointer of his right hand, wrapped around the edge of the sill, there was a large blue ring. It was familiar, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t place it.
“Move,” I huffed through chattering teeth. The cold air against my wet skin was almost painful. If I didn’t start moving soon, I would freeze right there on the spot. With one final glance up at the man, I shoved Shaun forward.
He whirled and dragged me toward the gate, stooping low on the way out to grab his jacket, which had miraculously missed the water.
When we got to the sidewalk in front of the hotel, I expected Shaun to slow down so we could catch our breath, or at least stop to think for a second. We couldn’t go running off without a plan. I needed a plan. Mom always had a plan. It was one of the rules.
Shaun, though, as it turned out, wasn’t a plan type of guy. He pulled me along without a word, stride never slowing. We got six blocks from the hotel before I couldn’t stand it anymore.
I stopped short, wrenching his arm back as I dragged him into the alley beside a small café. The smell wafting out as people came and went, the breakfast rush under way, made my mouth water. I was starving.
The cool metal cuff dug into my wrist, but I didn’t feel it. I was too busy trying to control the shivering. Forget about the food. If I didn’t get out of these clothes soon, the guys from the cabin wouldn’t get a chance to kill me. I’d turn into a block of ice long before that.
“I’m not going another step until I know where the hell it is we’re going to.” It didn’t seem like there were a lot of options. Wherever we were, it didn’t seem like a big city. There was an apartment building across the street, and the strip mall that housed the café on our side, and not much else. Without a car, we weren’t going to get far.
“Away,” he said as though I was an idiot. “Or did you want to go back and try to reason with them?”
“Away is good, but away where?” A spark of hope ignited in the pit of my stomach as I remembered how curious he’d been about the contents of the letter. “Someplace warm and dry? Because I’m about to ice over here… And does this mean you believe me?”
His expression faltered, then hardened. “I believe something isn’t right, but I don’t know what yet.”
I had an overwhelming urge to hit him—or kiss him. I wasn’t sure which. With lips like those, a girl would have to be dead not to notice. Mortal danger or not. “Did you miss those men storming the hotel? I’m telling you. They work for the guy you’re trying to hand me over to. This Jaffe person. He was involved with what happened to my mom—and now he wants me.”
“How do you know for sure? Because I have a feeling most people who have met you get the urge to kill you at one point or another.”
I glared at him. “Now who’s being mean?”
He sighed, but didn’t apologize. Instead, he squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. “I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”
Seriously? He was going to play the hero here? “Until you fork me over to die, you mean?”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re guilty of murder—and I think the police will see that.”
“But you’re not handing me over to the police, remember?”
“That’s true, but I swear I won’t do anything unless I’m positive you’ll be safe.” He bent down a bit so that we were eye to eye. “You can trust me, Kayla.”
I thought about it for a moment. Without the key to the shackles, we were stuck with each other for now. At least until we could get the damn cuffs off. I needed to deal with this one step at a time. First and most important at the moment—warmth. Further planning would be pointless if I froze to death or ended up dying of pneumonia.
Next w
ould be freedom from Shaun. Then, escape. There. A plan. It wasn’t much of one, but it soothed my nerves a little.
I held up my left hand. The now constant shivers racing along my skin made my spiffy new metal accessory jingle. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, is it? We need to find some dry clothes.”
“We need to find a phone. Call Patrick.”
“What good will calling him be if we’re frozen solid?” I countered. Really. This guy’s priorities were way off. His survival instinct? Zippo.
“He was meeting with someone from Jaffe’s camp,” Shaun said stubbornly. “To see if they knew anything about the guys from last night. We should call him first, then find dry clothes.”
“That’s stupid!” I snapped, grabbing a fistful of my soaked T-shirt. “The fact that it’s less than forty degrees and we’re dripping wet is the priority. Clothes first, then a call.” And as an afterthought, I added, “And, naturally, if they say they weren’t trying to kill me, we’ll just take them on their word?”
“Suck it up. I know what I’m doing here,” he said with a sneer. “And it’s not that cold out.”
“Says the guy who’s shivering like a leaf in a tornado!”
He ignored me. “Pat has the best bullshit meter I’ve ever seen. If they’re lying, he’ll know.”
I was about to make a snide comment, a phrase that no doubt would have dazzled him silent, but something occurred me. Or rather, the lack of something. “Ohmygod.”
Shaun was immediately alert, scanning the area for trouble. He reminded me of a cartoon dog I’d seen once. He was cuter though. Slightly. “What? What is it?”
“The hotel. My bag…” I’d been through some sticky situations. There were plenty of times I had to up and leave a place in the middle of eating, sleeping—once even during a shower—and I’d never lost the bag. My entire life was in there. Irreplaceable items. Pictures, trinkets…a lifetime of memories. “My keys…”
He watched me for a moment before holding out his jacket. “Check the left pocket.”
Fingers numb and shaking, I took the coat and dug into the left jacket pocket. Silky smooth material brushed the tips of my index finger. I thought it was the lining, but when I pulled out a pouch instead, I could hardly believe my eyes.
“Are those the keys you’re talking about?”
The smooth, familiar material made all my worries fade in a way that seemed somehow wrong from an inanimate object. It was stupid, really, how something so benign could make me so happy. But it was like an old friend. Reassuring and safe. I opened my mouth to thank him…then closed it with a snap.
He’d just returned my keys.
Which had been inside my bag.
Pouch clutched between my shaking fingers, I stepped forward and poked him hard in the chest. “You stole these from my stuff?”
He swatted my hand away, glaring. “Pat went through your bag—not me. He thought they might be important.”
“So the answer is yes then! You stole these from my stuff!”
“Hey.” He had the nerve to poke me back! “If he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have them right now. And since they seem like they’re pretty important to you—you’re practically drooling on them—how about a thank-you instead of biting my damn head off?” He held up his uncuffed hand. “Oh, and speaking of biting, I fucking owe you for this.”
I hadn’t broken the skin, but the palm of his hand was beginning to bruise. A small sense of satisfaction washed through me. “Go ahead and bite me back then,” I snapped.
He grabbed my arm, fingers digging into the skin. His eyes blazed, anger and something I didn’t quite understand. “Don’t tempt me.”
Holy shit. My pulse quickened, only I wasn’t sure if it was out of fear, or because of the way he was looking at me.
I swallowed and took a deep breath. They’d raided my stuff like scavengers and rummaged through what was basically my entire life. But if they hadn’t, the keys would have been lost. And that would have been a disaster. “Okay… Whether we like it or not, we’re stuck with each other—for now. A little teamwork will go a long way if we wanna get out of this alive.”
He nodded, backing down as well. Some of the tension drained from his shoulders, and he let go of my arm. I shivered at the loss of warmth. “Agreed.”
“So…truce?”
“Truce,” he said extending his right hand.
I took it and forced a smile. I didn’t like the idea of calling Patrick, but we didn’t really have anything to go on. The way he’d spoken, he knew my mom. If he knew her, then maybe he knew who Mick was. Maybe even T. The letter was gone—at least for now—but maybe it was still possible to piece this thing together. I was smart. Resourceful. I could do this.
“Please—for the love of planet earth—can we find someplace warm and dry? I’m turning into a frozen prune…”
“Yeah,” he said.
I started walking right. Shaun went left. We each got about one and a half steps before our arms jerked back, sending us off-balance and colliding into each other.
This wasn’t going to end well…
Chapter Five
“We need to change.” I poked my head from the alley, around the corner of the building.
Shaun, shivering as much as I was now, nodded and wrapped his jacket around my shoulders. Hot, smart, and thoughtful. If not for the irritating attitude, and the desire to turn me in, he’d be a seriously drool-worthy package.
“Yeah.” He cupped both hands in front of his mouth and blew furiously as a strong gust of icy wind hit. “Need to find a store or something, but don’t have much cash.”
And neither did I. If Mom were here, she’d make me wait outside while she did a little bit of shoplifting. She’d given me the skills I needed to survive, but did her damnedest to keep me from doing anything that could be considered “against the law.” Over the years, and against her better judgment, I’d convinced her to show me a few tricks here and there, but nothing I felt confident enough to try. It was the middle of October and we were soaking wet and shackled together. That didn’t really scream “under the radar.”
“I have an idea,” Shaun said, pulling me from the alley and guiding me across the street.
I followed, unsure what he was doing, but too cold to care. He led me through the doors of the small apartment complex, and the moment we walked in off the street and out of the icy breeze, I felt a million times better.
He closed the door behind me. “Laundry room. Should be able to find what we need there.”
I was kind of surprised because it was fairly brilliant. “That’s actually a good idea…”
He glanced back over his shoulder and shot me a cocky grin. “Of course it is. That’s why I was the one who came up with it.”
I would have responded, but I didn’t trust myself. Of all the people on earth for me to be shackled to, the universe sends a cocky, know-it-all asshole with a perfect body, face of a demigod, rocking an attitude? I’d done horrible things in a previous life to deserve this. Kicked a cherub or spit on a cloud. That was the only answer.
We went through the small foyer and around to the door marked Stairs. He pushed through and followed the hall to the end, our wet sneakers squeaking against the tile floor. We found the laundry room with little trouble, making only a single wrong turn and ending up in the boiler room.
In addition to being hungry and soaked, I’d had to pee since I’d woken up. Luckily, there was a small restroom in the corner. I was able to duck inside despite the shackle chain, closing the door most of the way, and preserve at least some of my dignity.
“Don’t be picky—just grab anything that might fit and let’s get out of here,” Shaun said when I came out. He pulled a dark-blue T-shirt from the pile of unfolded clothes to his right and started peeling off his wet one off.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Well-defined lines and a whirl of black ink brought a rush of heat to my cheeks and regions lower. The air grew almost humid, thick and
hard to breathe, and I found myself wanting to move closer. To run the tips of my fingers across his skin. It was as he stretched to pull the shirt over his head, arms extended and glorious muscles flexed, that I snapped out of it and realized the problem with our plan.
“Whoa!” I said, grabbing the chain and yanking. “Do not do that please.”
A wicked grin slipped across his lips as he let the shirt fall back into place. “I know once you’ve seen my physical perfection it’ll ruin you for all others, but—”
I blinked. “Are you kidding me?”
He thumped his chest. “I saw you checking me out when Pat and I came into the cabin. You couldn’t keep your eyes off me.”
I had been checking him out, but he shouldn’t have been that flattered. I didn’t really get to spend much time with guys, in general. Besides, he was staring at me just as hard. “Checking you out?”
He set the dry shirt down on the nearest washing machine and stepped closer, stopping just shy of invading my personal space. The tightness in my stomach increased, this time accompanied by a spike in my pulse. “Yeah. Checking me out. Kind of like you’re doing right now.”
He was right—I was staring. Shit. I took a step back and jingled the shackles in front of his face. “I thought I wasn’t the only one with a brain. Exactly how do you plan on getting the shirt off your right arm?”
He thought about it for a minute, then rolled his eyes. “It’s just a T-shirt. I can rip it.”
I gave him a good old-fashioned golf clap. “That’s brilliant…but how are you getting a new shirt on?”
He opened his mouth—then closed it with a snap. “Find pants. Our shirts will dry eventually. We’ll have to make do.”
We dug through the piles of clothing in search of something suitable and warm. Shaun managed to find a pair of jeans that fit perfectly. I turned toward the wall while he changed.
“You don’t—”
“If you make one crack about me peeking while your pants are around your ankles, I’m going to hurt you,” I warned.