“You tried to beatandelectrocute me?!“ I twist the baton into the fabric over his groin. “You fucked with the wrong one.” His body jolts through a howl.
He farts and flails from side to side until his combat boots hit the floor in a thud. The foot I kick is limp. Pee soils his black cargo pants.
Shit, did I kill him?
The baton slips from my shaking hands. Committing murder abroad was not on my itinerary.
Should I check for a pulse? Could I feel one through that thick neck?
Bane still hasn’t moved. His eyes are closed, his thin pink lips slightly parted. I need to go. I just…I’ve never killed someone after knocking them out.
“I’ll say it was self-defense. He came at me, and he never identified himself as security. He could be on the most wanted list. Maybe I helped catch a predator.”
My fingers work over the headache building through my bonnet. When I ran out of the apartment for my morning pastry, I didn’t expect all of this to happen!
Girl, if you don’t move.
“I’ll go to Luca,” I say. “If he’s not there, I’ll go back to Mr. Giuseppe. He’d keep me safe, slide me a pastry, and call the embassy for me.”
Bane will wake up soon.
If he’s not dead.
The lobby is still empty. There are no employees, no residents, no customers heading to the business suite. Nothing.
“Luca?” My voice echoes across tiles and marble columns.
“This makes no sense,” I pant between breaths, sweat beading under my bonnet. I grab the phone on the front desk and frown. “Shit,” I mutter in a failed attempt to resurrect the dial tone.
I know damn well the rapture didn’t happen.
Going back to Mr. Giuseppe, it is.
My feet skid to a halt at three men piling out of a car pulling up to the curb. They’re all dressed in the same tactical gear as Bane with secret-service earpieces.
“Shit!”
I hop behind the front desk and army-crawl back to the residential elevators. My knees groan at the cold stone digging into my joints, unprepared for all of this damn physical activity. I peek around the corner and release a long breath.
They’re gone.
Without knowing the building’s layout, the safest bet is to hide in the penthouse. I’ve seen enough movies to know goons take the stairs. I’m not trying to fight a soul in close quarters if it comes to that.
“Dammit,” I hiss, searching for the cell phone I forgot to take out of my apartment.
My eyes land on a fire alarm across from the elevators.
Bingo.
I look both ways before running to the bat signal for someone to help. My fingers graze the handle when a sharp prick pierces my neck. My eyes flutter and my knees give.
Everything goes black.
Bianca is currently unconscious and Salvatore is busy. Let’s have the narrator take it from here.
Chapter 9
"Who Is She?"
