When they’d finished, Maddie glanced around until she spotted a stack of empty manila folders on top of a filing cabinet. She snatched one up and put all the scraps of paper inside. “Let’s go.”
They’d just hit the bottom couple of steps, when Jack’s arm suddenly went out in front of her, bringing her to an abrupt halt and damned near clotheslining her.
When she opened her mouth to askWhat the hell, he held a finger to his lips and drew his gun with the other hand. “Someone’s here.”
* * *
Jack’s body went taut with tension as he listened for movement. They were fish in a fucking barrel standing there in the stairwell. There was nowhere to go but back upstairs if someone came at them. Provided they could even reach the top of the stairs before they each took a round or two to the back.
They had no choice but to get the hell out of the stairway and into the open. And yet he didn’t move, his concern for Maddie keeping him where he was, his body shielding hers. If she’d had any idea what was going through his head, his instinct to protect the woman he loved outweighing all his training, all his experience, she no doubt would’ve pistol-whipped him and taken charge—and probably with a few choice words in the process.
As it was, he felt her tension, her own senses on high alert as she waited for him to take the lead. Her fingertips lightly touched his arms, silently asking a question. At that moment, floorboards creaked in the distance.
“Kitchen,” Maddie whispered near his ear.
He repressed a shiver at the warmth of her breath on his skin and brought up his weapon, swinging out from the stairs and clearing the room in a glance. He heard a clatter in the kitchen. Someone else was searching the house, probably looking for the flash drive just as they were. He gestured toward the front door.
They were just going to have to risk being seen by Claire’s neighbors. There was no way in hell he wanted to get into a gunfight with the unknown intruder. These old brownstones were sturdy and well built, but he wasn’t about to take the risk of a stray bullet going through the wall and hitting an innocent victim.
Maddie sprinted toward the front door, her footsteps nearly silent on the hardwood. Jack covered her, his gun trained on the entrance of the kitchen until he heard the front door’s deadbolt disengage. Unfortunately, it seemed their intruder heard it too. The movement in the kitchen came to an abrupt halt.
Shit.
Jack waved Maddie out the door, backing toward her with a whispered, “Go, go!”
He was half a step away from the open doorway when a man in a black suit stepped out of the kitchen. Jack felt the shock of recognition a split second before the man brought up his gun and leveled it at Jack’s chest. Jack darted forward, swinging the heavy front door closed behind him just as the intruder’s bullet hit the door frame, splintering the wood and sending jagged pieces of wood flying.
Jack flinched, bringing up his arm to block the worst of the shrapnel. Maddie was already running down the front steps toward the brick sidewalk, but as Jack caught up to her, he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him as they bolted down the hill to where they’d left the car.
“Shit,” Maddie muttered, glancing over her shoulder. “Company.”
Jack searched frantically for a safe place to duck out of sight. If it was who he thought it was—and if the son of a bitch still worked for the same bastards—the intruder wouldn’t think twice about firing into a crowd to put a bullet in Jack’s skull.
He threw a glance over his shoulder as well, not surprised to see the guy gaining ground. Coming to a cross street, Jack jerked Maddie with him as he suddenly turned down the street and broke into a sprint.
“We’re going the wrong way,” Maddie told him, trying to pull him to a stop.
But Jack darted down another street without a word, emerging onto Charles Street. Without pausing, he crossed into traffic, earning blaring horns and shouted curses. He almost grinned, remembering their adventure in Mexico City. Until he realized that Maddie was one of the people cursing at him.
“Are you fucking crazy?” she snapped as soon as they were safely across the street and rushing toward an antique shop.
Jack ushered her inside as he cast a look around. The man who’d followed them was standing at the corner of the intersection, scanning the crowd. Jack entered the store and dragged Maddie away from the windows.
“Just had to put a little distance between us,” Jack murmured, scanning the store for another exit.
“May I help you?”
Jack immediately stilled, steadying his breath and plastering on his casual smile before turning to offer the proprietor a nod in greeting. “Just browsing. Thank you.”
The woman eyed them suspiciously over her cat’s-eye glasses. “London?”
Jack’s brows lifted. “Sorry?”
“Are you from London?” she asked.
It was then Jack noticed the woman had a slight accent. “Sometimes,” he admitted, cautious. “But I spent summers in Derbyshire.”
Her pale blue eyes twinkled. “The back door is through there,” she said, gesturing toward a door marked Employees Only. “Anyone I should steer away should they come looking?”
