Page 9 of Master of Secrets
“Yeah.” Mick’s gaze raked Kat’s disheveled figure with keen interest. “What’s with the blonde?”
“Later.” Another burst of bullets. Starburst scars suddenly marred the windshield. One, two…three bullet marks.Bam.Four.
I made my call, and barked the order. “Go!”
The van surged forward, bullets thudding into the armor plating.
Trey took his place at the other gun port, bracing himself as he peered through the sight. I sank down next to Katrin. She was on the floor, face smeared with dried blood, wide eyes darting from one man to another. She looked more frightened in here than she had outside. Or in the elevator.
“What in the hell is all this?” she demanded. “Whoarethese people?”
Now we were out of the garage, and careening out onto the street. “Are they coming after us?” I called up to Mick.
“Not that I can see,” Mick replied. “You want the helipad, right?”
“Oh hell, yeah.”
Mick’s sudden acceleration into a turn shoved her back against me, and I put my arm around her to steady her. She pushed me away. There were bloody scrapes on her arms and legs. Drops of blood stained her white shoes. Her blouse was ripped open, buttons missing. She didn’t seem to know it was open, revealing a white demi bra that cradled amazing tits.
I glanced around. All but Mick, who was driving, swiftly looked away.
Kat inhaled sharply and started fumbling with her shirt. She held it together, crossing the sides at her waist with shaky, bloodied fingers.
“What the hell just happened?” she forced out, through chattering teeth.
“It’s complicated,” I said.
“So…so those guys were after you, then? Not me?”
I puzzled over that for a second. “Huh? You? Why? What, is there a contract out on your life, or something?”
She stared at me blankly for a moment, eyes frozen wide, and then started to laugh. Tears started running down her face. She wiped them angrily away, smearing blood on her own cheek. “Oh, God,” she muttered. “This is so fucked up.”
“Agreed,” I said. “An absolute shitshow. I’m so sorry. Try to calm down.”
“Why should I? What the hell is going on? Why are those thugs after you, and what is…all this?” She gestured at the van, the men in it. “Your own personal army, complete with armored vehicles and gunports? Dude. What thefuckis your deal?”
“I’ll explain it all when we get to my—”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!”
“Kat—”
“Let me out! Right here would be just fine.Right. Here.”
I took a deep breath, braced himself for who the fuck knew what. “No.”
She jerked away from me, ignoring the staring men as she tried to stay upright and not slide wildly around in the speeding van. “What do you mean, no? Am I a prisoner now?”
“No, goddamn it,” I said. “I’m assuming a lot of the guys we fought in the elevator are still alive. They all got a good long look at you. So did the building security cameras. They can run those feeds through facial recognition software, match your face to your driver’s license. They’ll know who you are, and they’ll come for you.”
“Why should they?” she yelled. “I have nothing to do with you! Nothing! I don’t know you! I just got into a freaking elevator with you!”
“Yeah, but if you were one of them, and you saw us fighting together like we did, would you believe we had never met? That you had nothing to do with me? Would you think that for one single goddamn instant, if you had half a brain?”
Kat slapped me. Hard. I was so focused on her face, I barely flinched. Fuck, I barely noticed. I just kept staring.
Her eyes were wide and bright with the awful realization of the trap she had walked into. Her mouth worked. “But—but I—”