It came down with a sound that I would never forget as long as I lived.
But the guy?
He went flat.
“We gottago,” she said, still holding the bloody lock as she ran toward the hall.
“There’s a door here.”
“There’s a dumpster across it from outside,” she said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me with her to the hall door.
She ran out, her body half-bent to one side, like something was wrong with her midsection. Her ribs, maybe?
She paused halfway down the hall, going up to the fire alarm, pulling up the plastic cover, then pulling the lever.
The sound was instant and ear-splitting.
But we were running again, heading toward the closest exit.
We burst outward just as the casino emptied out, hundreds of people running onto the Boardwalk.
It wasn’t long before bodies crushed around us, before someone shoved me hard enough that my wrist broke free from her hold and I threw my hands up to stop my fall.
It was chaos then, with people nearly trampling me until one young guy hauled me up onto my feet again.
I looked around, frantic, trying to find that mass of unique hair of hers.
But I didn’t see her.
And I was still way, way too close to the casino.
I had to run.
I had to get safe.
I couldn’t go home. Frank knew where I lived.
And I didn’t want to go to the hotel in case someone was following me. I would accidentally lead them right to Milo.
Think.
I had to think.
I had no cash, no cards, no payment apps on my burner phone.
But this town was full of places to hide out.
I just had to get to one.
Preferably one nowhere near the casino.
Then I could call Milo.
So I just ran. And ran. And ran.
My lungs burned.
My jaw screamed.
