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“Get your things. We’re leaving.”
I’m in a state of shock.
Arnold. I smile when Leandro’s not looking. No one has to die tonight.
Chapter 19
Alessia
Leandro grabs my hand and drags me to the door of our hotel room. I take a mental snapshot of the bed, because it’s the place where I actually felt wanted for the first time. Not some plaything. Well, maybe a little of that too. But with him, the care he took with his every movement, sinking into my every sensation and building it higher, I liked it.
The alarm continues to blare that ear-piercing screech. Footsteps thump past our door, and worried voices chirp about what could possibly be going on.
I know, though – Arnold – just prevented a murder. It pains me to have to act more surprised than I am. After the initial jump-scare of the alarm, I feel comfortable knowing I wasn’t part of a kill.
Once the coast is clear, we slip out of the door and toward the stairs. His dress shirt is all disheveled, and his blazer flaps from the wind of skipping stairs. He’s eerily quiet while we escape.
The lobby is full of everyone from the convention – all dressed similar to Leandro. Unbuttoned cufflinks, ties undone. Everyone was taking a load off before they were jarred down to the lobby.
“It’s a false alarm, everyone. No reason to panic,” the manager shouts over a P.A. system.
Leandro pops his collar to hide the ink clawing at his neck, and ducks toward the front desk. There’s someone else manning it, which I suspect is good. No recognition.
As he politely drops the room keys and thanks the man for our brief stay, I notice Arnold glance at me from the shop. He’s unassuming, making small talk with a couple who were undoubtedly sharing their story of how the alarm startled them.
I quickly look away.
I’m with a killer not bound by your rules, Arnold. Can’t you see? Back off.
But thank you, for keeping my conscience clear.
Before I know it, I’m out in the cold holding my jacket shut as I’m dragged toward the car. There’s one overhead light in the parking lot, and once we’re past it, it’s pitch-black all the way until the convention center across the road… all except for one little cell phone light.
“Leandro, the car is that way.” I point.
“It is, isn’t it?”
I notice him reaching inside his jacket, and my entire body tenses up.
We’re heading toward the man on the phone, whose back is to us.
“If we export the seeds in the wrapping we discussed, it’s foolproof, Scones. I swear.” The man is smoking a cigarette.
“Excuse me,” Leandro says in a disguised voice. “You hear about what’s going on in the hotel across the way? Some big fire.”
The man waves his hand like he can’t be bothered, shooing us without looking.
“Excuse me.” Leandro moves closer, and my little attempts to tug him in the other direction are useless.
Even if I wanted to scream and warn the poor guy, I’m not sure I have the voice to do it.
“Hey, go fuck off, will you?” The man finally turns to find a silenced pistol aimed right at him. “Hook—”
Fthmp! Fthmp!
Two silenced shots make a mess all over the dirt. I’m in shock at his precision, because the first shot went right through the burner phone that’s now laying useless on the ground.
Leandro is a tornado, gathering the evidence and kicking a mix of deer shit and dirt over the blood to mask it, while I’m just standing there, shaking in terror.
