AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He answers on the second ring.
“How soon can you send a clean-up crew to Johannesburg?”
A lazy chuckle floats down the line. “You talking about the new craft beer shop in town or the city in South Africa?”
“South Africa.”
Donnacha Quinn lets out a low whistle. “I won’t ask questions. I have contractors in Pretoria. Text me the address, they’ll have it done before the sun comes up.”
“Appreciate it.”
As my thumb hovers over the end call button, I hear a question.
“Oh, and Cill?”
“Yes?”
“Looks like you owe me one,” he says with a syrupy laugh.
I grit my teeth and grunt something in recognition before hanging up and quickly texting over the address. Donnacha knows better than anyone that I hate owing someone a favor even more than I hate doing them for nothing in return.
Clean-up sorted, I stalk into the angel’s bedroom, coming to an abrupt stop when our eyes lock.
Goddammit. Those eyes. Big, blue and green whirlpools filled with secrets and lies. She was right; I walked into the room because I was curious. When she started rambling about stealing diamonds it only piqued that curiosity. She’s an angel with broken wings but she’s not innocent.
I would bet she’s far from it.
I stare at her trembling full lips and say, “I’m going to assume you’re squeamish.”
Her mouth parts but no words come out.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I grunt, crouching down to free her from the shackles around her wrists and ankles. Then I grab the sheet from the futon and throw it over her head.
“Hey—” she garbles, fighting against the fabric.
“It’s for your own good.” I stoop to pick her up. Her sharp bones push against my chest but she lays still and lets me carry her, bundled up in the sheet, past the two dead guards in the entryway. I bypass the elevator and start descending the fire escape. We’re on the fifty-second floor but taking the elevator would mean we’d come out to the lobby, right into the firing line of the Van der Boor’s other guards. My lungs and legs are burning by the time I burst out of the back entrance into the alley, where I parked the rental.
I dump the angel in the passenger seat, a little too roughly judging by her groan.
“Don’t move,” I hiss, before stalking to the trunk and pulling out my toolbox and a fake license plate. It takes less than forty-five seconds to change the plate from a South African plate to a Swiss one. I chuck the other plate in the nearby dumpster, then slide into the driver’s seat.
The girl has managed to rearrange the sheet, tugging it off her head and wrapping it around her naked body like a strapless dress.
Her big, all-seeing eyes drink me in, wide and frightened and bruised. I let out a groan and curl my hands around the steering wheel.
“What?” she whispers, her plump mouth parted.
I drag my eyes away from her and focus on the darkness ahead, jaw locking in place.
* * *
We drive in silence, but the space between my ears is anything but.
What the fuck is wrong with you? Since when are you a Good Samaritan?
I’m not. I’m really fucking not. I learned a long time ago you can’t save anyone but yourself so there’s no point even trying.
Curious. I was just curious.
