There was something in her voice that made him look up. He glanced at her. She was staring across the station. She’d gone pale. He followed her gaze, and his gut tightened. It was Dominic and his men. They hadn’t seen Enzo and Kathleen yet, but they were there and looking.
“Son of a bitch.” He glanced down. The tickets were still being printed. “Dai veloce.Andiamo,” he urged the machine to hurry up.
How did they find us?” she murmured.
“I have no idea. They shouldn’t have been able to.” He’d worry about that later. First, they had to retrieve the tickets and get on the train. He glanced at her feet. “Can you run in those heels?” She was still wearing the skirt and top from the restaurant, only now with the hoodie and hat.
She looked down. “If I have to. I can take them off and go barefoot if necessary.” She stared over at Dominic and his men. “Won’t running attract attention?”
“Don’t stare at them. They’ll feel it. Just glance. And yes, it will. We won’t do it unless we have to.” He grabbed the newly printed tickets and readjusted his bag “Let’s go.”
Kathleen fell in beside him with her backpack over her shoulder. They moved swiftly through the crowd on the opposite side of the station from Dominic. He and his men were walkingback toward the kiosks. Enzo kept them in his peripheral vision for as long as possible, but then they were out of sight behind him.
“Faster,” he said and grabbed Kathleen’s hand again. They moved as quickly as they could without attracting attention. He was suddenly grateful for the crowd at the station. It made it harder for Dominic to spot them.
They turned around the corner and came to an abrupt halt. Apparently, the train doors hadn’t opened yet for boarding, so everyone was stuck on the platform. His stomach knotted, and sweat broke out on his back. “Shit.”
He tugged Kathleen’s hand and turned, going back the way they came.
“Where are we going? Isn’t that our train?” Kathleen demanded.
“Yeah, but that line means we’re sitting ducks.”
Enzo pulled her forward. “We’re going to the next platform, and we’re gonna run down to the end and come back to our platform. By then, the doors will be open.”
They made the turn onto the next platform and started down at a fast walk. The overhead mechanical voice announced the boarding of their train. “Thank Christ,” Enzo snarled.
Then there was a yell. He glanced back. One of Dominic’s men had seen them from the top of the platform and was pointing at them.
“Run.” He yanked on Kathleen’s arm, and they raced down the length of the platform. People were lining up for the train, and he tried to dodge around them. Kathleen let go of his hand when she almost took out a woman and her child.
He reached back, but she zig-zagged the other way. Swearing under his breath, he cut left, shouldering past a man dragging a suitcase that refused to cooperate. Wheels clattered. Someone shouted in French. The platform narrowed ahead, funnelingbodies toward the boarding doors, which were finally sliding open with agonizing slowness.
“Kathleen!” he barked.
“I’m here!” she yelled back, breathless.
He spotted her just ahead, hair escaping her hat, backpack bouncing, shoes dangling uselessly from her hand now. Bare feet slapped against the concrete as she sprinted, fearless, reckless, beautiful in a way that made his chest hurt.
Another shout erupted behind them. Closer this time.
Dominic.
Enzo didn’t need to turn around to know it. He could feel him; the predatory focus, the certainty that prey had been sighted. Dominic wasn’t subtle. He didn’t believe in it.
“Left!” Enzo called.
Kathleen veered as directed, ducking between two men arguing loudly over seat numbers. Enzo followed, vaulting a low barrier separating queues, ignoring the sharp protest in his shoulder as he clipped the metal frame. He burst through the gap just as a hand swiped for his jacket and missed by inches.
Too close.
The doors to the sleeping car yawned open ahead of them.
“Train to Paris Gare du Nord now boarding,” the voice droned, maddeningly calm.
Enzo grabbed Kathleen’s wrist and hauled her toward the entrance. A conductor stood at the door, already exasperated, scanning tickets.
“Tickets!” the man snapped.
