Page 51 of No Lies No Promises

“Get out of—” Dante’s voice disappears mid-sentence.

Sensing danger, my brain snaps into focus, slowing down every detail necessary for survival.

Candles flicker in a breeze of fresh air.

Sean swivels in my direction.

Jeff, near the north door, grins.

Fitzpatrick’s men reach inside their oversized jackets.

Oh shit. Worst-case scenario. Wobbling on high heels, I vault over the bar, sending crystal flying. While it crashes to the floor, I push the bartender aside and bolt toward the wall of open windows.

My foot hits the nearest sill, and I gasp at the drop. Not much, but I’ll need to roll. One misstep, and I could break a leg.

When arms wrap around me, I resist the urge to fight.

It’s Sean. Legs bent, he launches through the screen and into the darkness below, absorbing the impact with his knees.

No time to ask about his stitches, I fling off my Jimmy Choos and race him across the lawn.

Once we reach the hedge maze, I shout into my chest mic. “Dante, please tell me you’re back.”

“Copy. Drone has eyes on you. Two guards approaching from the building. Sniper on the balcony.”

With no other choice, we crawl into the maze, scramble to our feet, then bolt. Left. Right. Left again. Behind us, men close in, their voices growing louder as they shout to each other.

We keep running and turning until their voices fade. In the quiet, Sean stops and pulls me into the tall bushes. Heart thumping, I lean against him, gasping for breath. Unlike mine, his remains steady.

A former Marine, he’s seen combat. As the spoiled daughter of a successful crime lord, I’ve seen my share of violence, too.

One thing is certain. People in situations like ours?

They die.

When a nearby branch cracks, we turn toward a red LED. It has to be attached to one of our pursuers.

Sean jumps from our hiding place. My pulse pounds over the sounds of hand-to-hand combat and the horrible gurgle of death.

Urine, blood, and sweat waft up from the ground.

Sean?

Dammit. Where is he?

I almost scream when a familiar hand grabs mine. “It’s me, babe. On my six.”

“K.” Still shaking, I clutch Sean’s belt and follow him into the darkness.

It takes an eternity for Dante to return to the comms. “Three lefts, skip two, then a right. When you exit, stay on the hedge line. Wait for my signal.”

With cool mud squishing between my toes, we move forward. A few corners later, the clouds shift. Under a faint silver light, we exit the maze.

“Stay close.” The whites of his dark eyes shining, Sean taps my arm.

A sudden volley of gunfire makes me cringe, but I keep moving. From the direction of the roof, a man screams, followed by what I assume is his body thumping onto the ground.

Hope surges. We may live through this after all.