“It’s fine.”
“It is not fine, Jamie.” Still, she put the gun and clips into her overnight bag. She wasn’t stupid. Elena knew they couldn’t go to the hospital, but they had to do something. “You can’t very well walk down the street looking like that.”
“I’ve got it covered.” And he did, literally. Jamie shrugged on a black sports coat that looked only a little out of place on him. It wasn’t his, and Elena had no idea where he’d come across it, but it hid away the bright red swath.
After stowing away the rest of the ammunition and guns on his person and in a small duffle he unearthed from somewhere in the trunk, Jamie took her arm and led her towards the street level elevators. He made her repeat the car’s position until he was satisfied she had it memorized. Then he gave her directions to the hotel, a path that would lead her through alleys and backstreets should something happen.
Bringing her to a stop before they went out into the light of day, he wiped the tears from her cheeks she hadn’t even been aware of. Making her straighten out her clothes and hair, there was no helping the tiny pieces of glass caught in the thick waves until she could pick them out.
Nodding once, Jamie started them towards the Talbot hotel.
Despite the periodic shudders that tried to slow her down, the walk was uneventful. Elena could see the bright sign declaring the hotel’s name in bold green letters and the shiny brass doors. They’d made it that far unscathed. Just a few more steps and she’d be in relative safety.
Unless someone decided to open fire on the crowded sidewalk. The chaos would give them plenty of time to snatch Elena and dispatch Jamie, in whichever order was necessary. She was mostly certain Pyotr didn’t want her dead. No, he’d want his pound of flesh for humiliating him first.
As if in answer to the dark path of her thoughts, Elena found her arm caught. The force of it wheeled her around, bag spillingover the ground as she dropped it in favor of clawing at the face coming close.
“Elena, it’s me!”
Jamie shoved Anthony back just as Elena recognized him. The deep timbre of Jamie’s warning growl shuddered through her bones as his body pushed her back towards the smooth stone front of the hotel.
“Shit. I’m sorry.” Anthony let out a loud sigh, raking his hand through his hair. Revealing the torn front of his shirt and the gleaming runnels of blood flowing down his chest. With a wince, he lowered his arm, repeating, “Sorry.”
“What happened?” Elena didn’t try to go around Jamie, keeping his bulk between her and the flow of foot traffic that veered around them.
“Apparently being rammed by a car isn’t like the movies.”
“That… that was you?”
“Yeah.”
The tilt of his lips was hard, an edge to it that jangled her nerves. As he took a small step back and made the effort to lower his shoulders to appear less threatening, Elena’s breath left her in a rush. Eyes wide, she slowly shook her head, unable to comprehend it.
“Why,” she finally asked, gripping Jamie’s arm for more than just comfort as she came even with him.
“What do you mean?”
“Why did you help me?”
“Don’t be silly.” The smile softened some, almost charming. “Why wouldn’t I help you? That wouldn’t have ended well for you.”
“I don’t understand.” She seemed to be saying that a lot lately. Maybe she didn’t understand half as much as she thought she did. This new world was strange and terrifying.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here. You shouldn’t be on thestreets like this.” Anthony held up his hand, a shimmering silver sports car pulling up to the curb at his signal.
“Wait—”
“I know it’s not the most practical, but your guard here can get you wherever you’re going.” A man in dark, casual clothes climbed from behind the wheel, tossing the keys to Anthony who in turn held them out to Jamie. “Just let me know where you leave it.”
“Mr. Marchetti?—”
“The least you can do is call me Anthony.” He flashed his teeth, a not-smile as his hand swept towards the car. “Now say thanks and get in.”
“I’m already at?—”
“Miss Costanzo,” Jamie snarled, interrupting Elena.
Too late. Anthony’s brows lowered, his dark gaze raking over Elena, the suitcase in Jamie’s hand, then to the bright doors of the Talbot. He repeated it in the reverse, and Elena shifted her weight. Uneasy beneath his attention, knowing the judgement he was already laying upon her. He proved it in the next breath.
