His own eyes welled with tears as he listened to her cry.
He should give in. Give Dizzie up and let the corporation deal with her.
He’d known Portia and Tommy his whole life. They should be the ones he chose. They were the obvious answer.
But the thought of throwing Dizzie back to Tremaine Security turned his stomach. She didn’t think she’d make it out alive. He agreed with her.
There had to be another option.
Chapter21
The building loomingout of the dark alley wasn’t a house. It didn’t look all that safe either. Dizzie double-checked the address before rolling to a stop in front of a warehouse that had seen better days in a part of town that had seen better decades.
She checked the address again. Still a match for the one that hovered at the bottom of her field of vision. Why was she following the mysterious white text?
Oh, that’s right, she was out of options. Razor Jack’s had been too crowded to risk tonight.
“Put up or shut up,” she muttered to herself. She slipped her leg over the bike.
Gentrification had hit Seattle’s warehouse district hard, starting with the buildings closest to the waterfront. Now called lofts and retreats and suites, the refurbished buildings were sold to wealthy corporate types who could afford a view of the water.
Bracketed between the city and the waterfront were clusters of buildings like this one. Somehow they never succumbed to the developers and remained derelict. Still standing but abandoned. Was that why the hacker had sent her here?
Dizzie flipped her visor up. A rusty chain looped through the handles of equally rusted front doors. The windows were covered with years’ worth of dirt and grime.
Yippee!She felt safer already.
Wind whipped through the space between buildings and she shivered. She didn’t like being out in the open like this. Too exposed. She needed to get into that building. She looked up, waiting for instructions from her new…friend? Foe? How did you classify someone like that?
First, she had to deal with the bike. It was too damn shiny to leave sitting in front of the building.
“I’m sorry, baby.” She stroked her hand over the chrome. “I’ve got to hide you while I check out the inside. I’ll be back for you as soon as I can.”
She grabbed the handlebars, took a deep breath, and rolled the motorcycle into the shadows to the side of the building. The smell of rot emanated from the dumpsters that lined the walls. Maybe this area wasn’t as abandoned as it looked.
She tucked the bike into a corner behind one of the dumpsters. She hated to leave it out here. What if it got stolen?
A laugh bubbled out. She clapped her hand over her mouth. Talk about irony.
The shadows should provide protection for the motorcycle, at least until daybreak. If she hadn’t accessed the warehouse by then, she’d move on.
Once it was hidden, she returned to the front of the warehouse. Dizzie kept to the shadows. This place gave her the creeps. It was too quiet. Too far from the hustle and bustle of the city.
Standing in front of the big warehouse doors, she studied the rusted panels and the worn siding.
How was a building this decrepit still standing?
She shook her head. Maybe this place wasn’t as bad as it looked. Not that it mattered if she couldn’t get inside.
Shivering, Dizzie removed her helmet and tucked her hair into the neck of her jacket. Her hair would be a beacon in this dark corner of the city, but the helmet covered her mouth, so the hacker couldn’t read her lips. “A little help here,” she said, tilting her head back so a satellite, if there was one up there, could see her.
She ran her hands over the doors. Fully expecting rusted paint, she was surprised by the smooth metal under her fingertips.
That was interesting. She peered closer.
Clever, clever hacker.
Despite its appearance, the door wasn’t as old or as worn as it looked. It was cleverly painted to conceal the truth. Whoever owned the building had secrets.
