I wrap my pinkie around his and pull.
33
Kara - Present
“Don’twalkaway,Lucy.”
It’s too late. I’ve already turned my back to him.
“Kara,” he says this time.
I halt when he says my name and rests his hand on my shoulder.
“What are you so afraid of?”
“I—” The words die on my tongue as something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. Immediately on high alert, I grab Owen’s hand and turn around, holding my fingers to my lips. I silently walk out of the doorway, into the hallway, and up to the wooden ornate banister that looks over the reception hall below.
There, filling Andrews’ grand foyer area are six people dressed in black, faces covered in balaclavas. All wearing the exact same tactical gear as the ones at the gala. It’s in the details.
The weapons, the body armour, the knife placements, the movements. These are the same company, unit, army fucking squadron, who knows. But they are one of the same.
Reporting into the same master.
I pad back into the room and quietly close the door.
“We have company. Six. And you can bet we have another team coming round the back. Take the hard drive, get some shoes on, and get ready to move,” I instruct Owen, who mutters to himself and moves into action.
Pulling on socks, a Henley and a pair of combat boots Andrews supplied him.
I open the wardrobe, grab his bag and another empty one, and throw it to Owen. “Pack whatever is useful. Just do it quietly.”
I go back to rummaging in the cupboard and tap the bottom, knowing Andrews as well as I do, there will be a weapon in here. I’ve just got to find it.
I work methodically, tapping the base and running my fingers along the seams until I feel something. I pull the fake bottom and grab the thirteen-inch tactical combat knife.
“Perfect,” I say, grinning, holding it up to Owen, who by this point, knows that I’m slightly unhinged and just mutters under his breath.
“In a minute, we are going to exit this room. You are going to go to the master suite where there is a balcony. You will climb down the trellis that runs up to said balcony and you will make haste—”
“Make haste?” he whispers. “How the fuck are you speaking right now? Have you been watchingBridgerton?”
“Owen,” I hiss at him. “Shut up and listen. You will haul your arse along with that golden fucking hard drive, and you will head to Andrews‘ out house. You will go inside, you will lock the door, and you will wait until I come and claim you. Do you understand me?”
“You can’t take on six men.”
“Twelve. And don’t be so sexist. There could be women, too.”
“What do you mean, twelve?”
“There’s probably two teams of six. Anyway, Andrews is downstairs, it will be fine. Ready?” I wave him off as he opens his mouth, goes to say something, thinks better of it, and nods instead.
“Repeat the plan.”
“I will go to the master suite, climb down the trellis like Spiderman. I willmake haste,”I pull a face at his quip, “and go to the outhouse where I will lock the door and wait. You see the irony of hiding until you collect me, right?”
“But it’s not a cupboard, therefore it’s not the same. Ready?” I turn and go to open the door.
“Lucy.”
