Some of her frustration evaporated. She was running on fumes and wasn’t injured. He had been in the middle of the collapse at the hotel. Dizzie was impressed that he was thinking and speaking at all.
Still, that didn’t solve their problem. “Some rescue this is.”
Killian flinched like she’d hit him. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at it, as if willing it to ring. “Look, I was expecting him,” he waved the phone in emphasis, “to call again and provide more instructions. We need to get out of here.”
“Fine. I can get us out. Follow me. And do exactly what I tell you to.”
This time when Dizzie stepped out of the alcove, he let her go. She took off, following the faded green stripe on the wall.
She didn’t look to see if he followed. His footsteps on the floor behind her said he was.
Memories rushed back as she led them deeper into the depths of the building, the rights and lefts almost automatic.
His long legs brought him even with her in no time. “How do you know where to go?”
“I grew up in these hallways.” Dammit, why had she said that?
“In the hallways?”
“Playing in them,” she clarified. “All of us did.”
“Ah.” He said it like a lightbulb had gone off in his head. “You grew up in the corporate orphanage. How did you end up there?”
Dizzie flinched. She didn’t like to talk about her childhood with outsiders—or anyone, really. They asked invasive questions like that one, never realizing their curiosity picked at open wounds.
“Orphan, orphanage.” Seemed self-explanatory to her.
He must have heard the warning in her tone. His next question wasn’t rude, just stupid. “You’re sure you know where you’re going?”
“Yes, we’re getting close to the exit.”
Even if the signs didn’t tell her where she was, her nose did. Couldn’t he smell it?
There was only one exit that was never covered by guards and had limited cameras.
Waste disposal.
Chapter11
They keptto the green route Dizzie remembered, rounding two corners before the questions started.
“What is that smell?” The words sounded harsh in the eerie quiet of the hallways.
She didn’t answer right away. She was too busy trying to block her nose. “Lots of people.”
“We’re headingtowardpeople?”
“Not exactly.” Oh, was he going to be surprised when they got there. “We’re almost there.”
“Almost where?” His voice was thick as if he was holding his nose.
“Shhh!”
He grumbled and she smiled. Who knew that bossing around an investor would be this much fun?
Though the questions stopped, she heard him thinking loud, loud thoughts.
A lifetime of tabloid stories hadn’t prepared her for the real Killian St. John. The arrogance, sure. Exactly as expected. Good looks that grime from the bombing couldn’t hide? The only surprise was that he was even better looking in person. But the willingness to follow her lead was completely unexpected.
