I crept out into the street, searching for a cab. I needed to find someone—anyone—who was willing to help me. The few cars that passed me didn’t even slow down. A jolt of panic went through me. Of course no one was stopping—I looked like a beaten-up whore.
Then, a yellow cab rounded the corner. I didn’t think—I stepped directly into its path, forcing it to brake hard enough to skid.
The driver shouted something at me, but I was already yanking the back door open and sliding in.
“Where to, crazy woman?” he demanded, shaking his head.
“Teterboro Airport,” I gasped.
“Which building?”
Building?Think Lacey. I shut my eyes, desperately searching my memory of the men’s conversation. Something about a shiny new toy…
“Jet Aviation!” I shouted.
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “You got cash? Card? Are you hiding your money in that little dress?”
“I was attacked. It’s a long story. I promise I can pay you when we get there,” I said, my voice cracking with urgency.
“I’m not running a charity here. Prove you can pay, or get out. I ain’t getting stiffed.”
Desperation clawed at my throat. Then my eyes landed on my wedding band.
I yanked it off and shoved it through the little plastic window. “Here. It’s platinum. Check the inside. Trust me, it’s worth more than the fare to Teterboro.”
He held it up to the light, his expression shifting from skepticism to interest. Then he pocketed it. “Fine. But sit back and don’t make a mess in my cab.”
“Just drive,” I snapped. “Fast.”
He did.
The ride blurred into streaks of light as the dull pounding in my skull increased. My fingers curled into fists in my lap. Each mile seemed to take an hour.
When we rolled up to the glass-and-marble facade of Jet Aviation, I was out of the cab before it fully stopped.
Inside, the lobby was all polished floors and silent judgment. Men in suits. Women in heels. Not one of them looked like they’d been hanging from a meat hook minutes ago like me.
Every pair of eyes tracked me—barefoot, filthy, makeup smeared down my face, my cheek swollen, my lip busted from Delgado’s punches.
I swallowed the panic clawing its way up my throat. I didn’t have time for this.
Then fate cracked the door wide open for me.
A little boy dressed like a miniature CEO stopped in the middle of the doorway leading to the ramp, apparently curious about the sliding door. I bolted after him and slipped through before anyone could stop me.
“Hey! You can’t go out there!” someone shouted behind me.
I ignored them.
The ramp stretched out in front of me, glittering with rows of sleek, private jets. My gaze whipped back and forth.Which one is his?
Not wanting to waste a second, I took off running, weaving between ground crew and gleaming metal wings. My panic twisted tighter with every step—until I saw him.
Nik.
He was striding toward the stairs of a fancy plane, Rory at his side, clearly unaware of the trap waiting for them.
I ran.
