Page 6 of Fugitive Flirtation
“You’re not taking her anywhere,” I say, my grip tightening on my gun.
The first man takes a step forward, his weapon aimed at me. “Don’t be a hero; she’s not worth it. Hand her over…”
Nope, that won’t happen. No serious bounty hunter gives up that easily. But that’s not it. There’s this protective urge washing over me. Now is not the time to think about it. I’ll do that later, or not. Introspection’s not really my thing. I just know that I can’t let them take her, no matter what.
“Not happening,” I growl, my finger tightening on the trigger as I aim for the first man’s leg. He goes down with a cry of pain. Instead of shooting back, his partner watches him fall to the floor.
Perfect, it’s amateur hour.
I use the moment of confusion to shove Alicia toward the balcony.
“Go!” I yell, firing again at the other man’s right arm to keep him at bay.
Following Alicia outside, I scan the area, looking for an escape route. We’re two stories up, but there’s a small ledge running along the building.
“We have to jump,” I say, holstering my gun and reaching for Alicia. “But not here, over there.”
She stares at me and then looks down again toward a dumpster I’m pointing at. She shakes her head and whispers, “I don’t know if I can.”
“You can,” I insist, pulling her close. “I’ve got you.”
We climb over the railing, and I hold her tight as we inch along the ledge. I hear shouts from inside the condo, and there’s a new voice in the mix. Fuck, they have reinforcement. Unless it’s some neighbor complaining about the noise…
Hopefully, we’ll never know. We need to jump. It’s a risky jump—the dumpster is filled with construction debris—but it’s our only chance.
“Do you trust me?” I ask, looking into Alicia’s eyes.
She hesitates for a moment, then nods and whispers, “Yes.”
I pull her into my arms, and together, we leap off the ledge, aiming for the dumpster. We land with a crash. My breath’s knocked out of me, but as far as I can tell, it was a good fall. Nothing’s broken. And we’re alive, and for now, that’s all that matters.
“You’re okay?” I ask, reaching for the side of the dumpster.
She tentatively moves her arms and legs, stretches, and nods.
“Good, then let’s get out of here.”
As we scramble out of the broken pieces of sheetrock, I’m reconsidering my first assessment of Alicia.
Not the part about her being crazy hot and sexy—that remains the case even when she’s covered with white plaster dust. I have this flash of me pulling her under a hot shower and… I push those thoughts aside.
Right now, I have more pressing concerns, and what I’m questioning is her guilt. Because someone else is chasing her, I’m ready to consider the possibility that Alicia could be innocent. But there’s another option. Those men could be her partners or someone working for partners she tried to screw over. That’s something I have to figure out. I just need to keep her safe while I do it.
“Come on,” I say, taking her hand. “We need to get out of here.”
We run for the car and as soon as our belts are on, I gun the engine and peel out of the alley, putting as much distance as possible between us and the condo. My mind races as I try to make sense of what just happened. Those men were definitely not there to bring her to justice. No, they had something else in mind.
I glance over at Alicia, who’s slumped in the passenger seat, her face pale. “You okay?”
She shakes her head. I can tell she’s shaken. I get it. This case just got a whole lot more complicated.
I pull out my phone and dial Ice’s number. He picks up on the first ring. “Ace, what’s up?”
“I need a safe house, boss. Things went sideways at the girl’s place. Some goons showed up. I shot one in the leg, one in the arm, and we made it out.”
Ice is silent for a second while I hear the clicks of his mechanical keyboard. “Okay, I got you. Head to the shack behind the old clubhouse. I’ll have someone meet you there with supplies.”
“Will do.”