Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Except for the fact that he was quite clearly alone.
Watching the man out of the corner of his eye, North walked down to the next stall, which was filled with hats, scarves, shawls, and gloves made from the softest wool he’d ever touched. But what really caught his attention was the mirror hanging on the side of the stall. From just the right angle, he could watch the man who was following him.
A second man walked up to his would-be stalker, wearing a plain navy-blue hoodie and jeans. They spoke for a minute, and the first man handed the second a cigarette. At first, North was sure he was simply bumming a smoke, but then they both looked over in North’s direction to watch him.
Wonderful. He didn’t have just one stalker. He had at least two. And if there were two, that meant there could possibly be more he hadn’t spotted yet.
But why? Only his family knew he was traveling, and he was pretty sure that just his grandpa knew he was in Brussels. There was no way his parents had sent someone to drag him home. They didn’t have that kind of money.
Pickpockets? This seemed a little extreme for pickpockets.
Maybe they were going to kidnap him and sell him as a sex slave like in that crazy Liam Neeson movie. Or there was that movie about the hostel where the stupid Americans were—Nope. Not even going to think of those gory movies he had no business watching. If he got out of this mess, he was going to watch only rom-coms from this day forward.
For now, he needed to lose his two tails. Turning away from the stall, he picked up his pace, moving through the square and sticking close to the larger crowds of people. If he was around other people, he was still safe. They wouldn’t be stupid enough to attack him while there were witnesses.
Glancing over his shoulder, North gasped to find they were not only following but had picked up their pace, closing the distance between them. Screw this! North ran. He might not be tall or strong, but he’d always been fast. Weaving through the crowd, calling out apologies where he could, North raced ahead while searching his mind for another option. They were too close to stop and ask someone for help. There was no telling if they’d understand him, and he didn’t want to risk putting a total stranger in danger. But he couldn’t keep running. There had to be a way for him to lose these two bastards.
His heart thudded desperately in his chest, and his throat went dry. After a few blocks, a stitch cut across his side. Okay, he might be fast, but he had the endurance of a cheetah—good for only short distances and then he returned to his more sloth-like form thanks to many hours behind his computer.
He turned down one street after another, randomly taking lefts and rights in hopes of shaking his pursuers. But no matter where he turned, he couldn’t lose them.
Two sets of footsteps pounded after him, the sound echoing off the tall buildings and the relative quiet. Crap. North glanced around to find that there were very few people on this block. Fewer than there had been on the last one. He needed to find crowds again. Not that he had a clue as to how he was going to do that. He was completely lost at this point.
Cursing himself, he made a left, hoping it would take him back toward the Grand Place or at least the thick thoroughfare of restaurants he’d spotted a while back. He sucked in a ragged breath and tried to harness his growing panic into a fresh burst of energy.
The hammering footsteps were getting louder when he turned a corner and saw the wonderful orange-and-grey winter coats of the police. Oh, thank God! North pushed himself, gasping for air as he frantically waved both his arms at the two officers talking at the corner.
Both women turned, eyes wide and mouths falling open in confusion.
“Help! Help!” North cried breathlessly, not caring if he looked insane. The police would protect him.
As he reached the two cops, one grabbed his arms to help him slow safely.
“What—”
“Men…chase…chase me…” North panted, waving one arm behind in the direction he’d come from. The three of them looked back to see the two men stop at the top of the block, expressions angry, before they took off in the opposite direction. Without hesitation, the other cop took off after them while North continued to suck in great lungfuls of air.
“Do you know who they are?” the officer asked.
North could only shake his head. He released the officer’s arms and straightened, one hand going to his side against the stitch that burned there. Dear God, he was out of shape. When this was all over he was taking up jogging or at least walking. This…this was stupid.