Rex nods.
“Good. Why don’t you go keep him company for a minute? Tell him you wantgelatoafter this. I’ll be right there.”
Suspicion flickers in those dark eyes. The kid is way too smart for his age, just like I was. “Are you leaving?”
“Not a chance.” I ruffle his hair. “Just gotta make a quick phone call, and even superheroes need someone to watch them when they try to fly.”
He studies me like he doesn’t quite believe me, then finally huffs and trots toward the car. “I’m getting Nutella!” he calls out over his shoulder.
“Get two scoops,” I shout back, even though my stomach is as tight as a drum.
When he’s safe by the car, I let my smile drop. My gaze sweeps the park again, slower this time. Still nothing. Still no one.
But I know she’s out there. Watching. Waiting.
Where are you, Trigger? The nickname brings an unexpected smile to my face.
There. A flash of movement at the edge of the park behind the trees. I catch a whisp of blonde hair, a quick stride, and a head ducked just enough to saydon’t notice me. My pulse spikes.
It’s her.
I’m moving before I know it, slipping past the fence, hand brushing the butt of my Glock. My eyes lock on the swing of her ponytail as she weaves through the crowd toward the street.
“Cazzo,” I hiss under my breath, breaking into a jog and then a run.
She’s fast. Too fast for someone in boots. A professional’s pace. But I’m faster. My legs eat up the distance between us, every nerve tuned to the hunt. People curse as I shoulder past them and horns blare when I cut into the street. The whole city fades until it’s just her.
The assassin. The mystery. The ghost I can’t stop thinking about.
I draw my gun low, close to my thigh, the matte black hidden by my jacket. I don’t dare risk it. Not here in broad daylight, not unless I have to. But if she turns with that weapon trained at me, I won’t hesitate.
A quiet voice in my head calls me a liar.
Another ten feet. Five. I can almost reach her.
“Matty!” The shout cuts through everything. High-pitched. Familiar.
I skid to a halt and whirl around. Rex is out of the car, waving both arms like a lunatic on the edge of the sidewalk. His smile is wide, oblivious, and his little body is too damn small against the blur of taxis and delivery trucks barreling past.
Shit. My heart slams harder than it did chasing her.
“Rex, what the hell are you doing?” I bark, shoving the gun back under my jacket as I whirl around and sprint toward him. “Get back!”
Damn it, Joey. Why the hell isn’t our driver watching him?
When I finally reach Rex what feels like a thousand years later, I grab his shoulders and yank him against me, shielding him from the traffic. “Don’t do that again, buddy. When I tell you to stay in the car, you have to do it.”
“Fine,” he grumbles.
Then, my eyes flick back across the street.
She’s gone.
Just like that. The blonde ghost has vanished into Manhattan’s veins. Again.
Rex tilts his head back, confusion scrunching his face. “Why were you chasing that pretty blonde lady anyway?”
I freeze, my throat tight. Hesawher.
