Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80014 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80014 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
The safest way out—in terms of not getting caught—was probably climbing off the balcony, so I crossed the room and opened the double doors. It occurred to me that I really should have ducked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, because the sound of running water might have bought me some time.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when a deep voice behind me asked, “What are you doing, Jack?”
My heart rate was already quick. Now it started beating in double time as I turned to face Adriano. I noticed randomly that he was wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts, and he was watching me curiously. Then I did something stupid—I glanced at the chest, which I’d left open on the dresser.
He followed my gaze, and then he rushed to the box and looked closer. When he turned back to me, there was barely contained fury in his eyes. He said, in a dangerously low voice, “No. Not the Rolex.”
I swallowed hard as my heart pounded. I’d never been caught in the act before, and I wondered if there was a chance I could talk my way out of this. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say, though.
“If you need money, I’ll help you. But I can’t let you take that watch.” The deceptively calm way he said that was unnerving, and so was the way he held my gaze with all that anger in his eyes. I took a step backwards, over the threshold and onto the balcony, and he growled, “No! Don’t you fucking do it.”
I took two more steps backwards, bumped into the metal railing at the edge of the narrow balcony, and grasped it with both hands. Then I quickly glanced down, judging the distance to the ground.
In response, he yanked open the top drawer of the dresser, pulled out a giant fucking gun, and pointed it at me as he yelled, “Stay there!”
And just like that, the situation went from scary to terrifying.
I didn’t even think about what I was doing. With my heartbeat thundering in my ears, I vaulted over the railing and landed in some bushes in the compact front yard. I turned my ankle, but that didn’t matter right now. Nothing did but getting away from that gun, so I took off at a sprint.
From somewhere behind me, I heard a yell of frustration but no gunshot. That was followed by a loud thud and the unmistakable sound of branches cracking. Fucking hell, he’d followed me off the balcony!
Even though I was confident in my ability to outrun someone as big and bulky as Reno, I didn’t put it past him to shoot me. The look in his eyes right before he reached for the gun suggested he was capable of it.
In my panic, I’d started running right down the middle of the street, like I wanted to get shot or something. Delores Park was to my left, but it was mostly just an open, grassy area with no place to hide, so I kept going until I reached the next neighborhood.
Then I had an idea and quickly climbed over a fence, which put me in someone’s back yard. If I did that a few more times, I’d come out at the other end of the block, and then I’d probably lose him. Sure, I could also just hide in the yard until I was sure he’d passed, but I was exhausted and afraid, and I really just wanted to go home.
I crossed the yard and climbed over another fence, then repeated the process. It was all going according to plan, until I cleared another fence, landed on something uneven, and twisted the ankle I’d messed up when I jumped off the balcony. I yelped with pain as I fell face-first into a lavender bush. It smelled like a funeral.
My yell had alerted whoever lived here, and a moment later a bunch of lights came on in the house and yard. I tried to scramble to my feet, but pain shot up my leg, so I sat back down again. There was no way I was going anywhere on that ankle.
Instead, I brushed some lavender flowers out of my hair and took a look at my surroundings. The pretty yard belonged to a hot pink Victorian. If it was possible for houses to look friendly, that one did. I just hoped the homeowners weren’t armed, because one gun a night was more than enough.
A moment later, a bunch of people rushed out the back door. A petite brunette in a red silk camisole and shorts was in the lead. She was armed with a baseball bat, and it looked like she had every intention of using it on the intruder in her flower bed.