Chapter Two
I issue the stranger a final sneer before pivoting on my heels to enter the curtain separating backstage from the underbelly of Substanz. Just before I break through the thick material, a deep “oomph” sounds through my ears.
Jackknifing back, my heart launches into my throat. Dwain is buckled on his knees, holding his gushing nose with his large hand. His attacker is standing over him, wordlessly cautioning him a bloody nose will be the least of his problems if he budges an inch.
Before my hazy brain can decipher what is happening, the blond man removes a set of cuffs from his belt. His brisk movements reveal that our ruse wasn’t just foolish; it was life-altering. He is a federal agent. If the gold eagle on the top of his badge isn’t enough of an indication, the bright blue FBI print beaming from his leather wallet is a clear sign.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say. . .”
The blond’s words trail off when someone grabs me. I’m dragged through a thick curtain without a squeak escaping my lips; I’m too stunned to do anything. Dwain isn’t being arrested by a half-witted cop who would accept a bribe. He’s being taken into custody by an agent from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
This can’t get any worse.If I am arrested, I cannot go to law school; I cannot sit the bar, and I will not save my parents' property from liquidation. This undoes all the good I've achieved since Luca's death. It will unravel everything.
"Unless you want to be arrested, keep your head down and your legs moving." My savior's voice is deep, protective and laced with secrecy.
"My. . ." My quivering words end when the man clutching my wrist snatches my purse from my dressing station before taking a sharp left.
How did he know which one was mine?
Bitterly cold winds smack into me when we exit the secured side entrance of Substanz. It was the door Dwain was heading for before he was detained. We glide down the blackened sidewalk, a rusty awning keeping us concealed from the helicopters hovering above our heads.
The scene is frantic, matching ones I’ve watched many times onCops.Clients race for their cars parked blocks up so their wives don't grow suspicious of their nightly routine. I do the same thing, but more to hide my secret life from the dean of my college and the one or two people from my study group hoping to weasel their way from study companions to friends.I wonder if they’d still like me if they knew about my double life?
As riot officers circle the premise, ensuring everyone inside Substanz remains trapped, I raise my eyes to my suited companion. “They have us surrounded. We can’t get out.”
He brushes off my worry with a smirk. “It isn’t what you know, Regan. It iswhoyou know.”
My feet stop as my heart rate rockets sky-high. “How do you know my name?”
I haven't been called Regan in years. Since venturing down this sordid path, I've gone by the nickname my father calls me when I give him sass. Everyone at Substanz refers to me as Rae. No one here knows my real name — not even Dwain.
“I’ll explain everything the instant we get out of here. But we need to dodge your arrest first. Okay?” His question doesn’t match the sternness of his tone.
He stops dragging me across the cracked asphalt when an armed agent steps into our path. The riot officer’s shield is lowered, hiding his face, and his weapon is pointed at the unnamed man’s chest. He looks peeved. Rightfully so. He did break formation to approach us milling about in the far back corner of the parking lot.
“Henry said to say hello.” I glare at the dark-haired man clutching my waist. Is he certifiably mad? We’re about to be arrested—now is not the time for niceties.
Feeling the heat of my gaze, the stranger lowers his eyes to mine. Their intensity has my throat drying up. Not because I’m in fear for my life, but because their unique gray coloring is diverting the moisture in my body to a moreneedyregion.
With a wink acknowledging he noticed my whitening tongue, the stranger returns his focus to the armed agent. “Which way?”
"Go west for half a mile; the trek is steep. When you see an old set of railroad tracks, wave your arm in the air three times." The agent steps closer to us, ensuring we can hear him through his face shield. "Three times only. Do two, my guy will shoot you. Four—”
“He’ll shoot me. Get it,” the gray-eyed man interrupts. “What’s the deal?”
He nudges his head to the line of men and women kneeling outside of Substanz. The agents haven't segregated the groups from the longtime clients who spend more time here than their homes to the one-off visitors who couldn't contain their curiosity for a moment longer. They’re all being treated as criminals.
I finish scanning the ashen faces for Dwain when the agent answers, “Don’t know. This isn’t Henry. He only got word of our sting while we were in transit.” Although I can barely see the agent’s eyes, I’m certain they are on me when he adds, “Why take her with you? She’ll slow you down.”
“She’s got something I need.” The dark-haired hottie chuckles when I take a step back, apparently humored by my desire to flee. “Thanks for the knock to my ego, sweetheart, but I’m not here for your body.”
His term of endearment seems off. He has wise eyes and an affluent taste in clothing, but his lack of wrinkles reveal he isn’t much older than me. He may even be the same age, so a term my grandpa regularly uses doesn’t suit him.
After thanking the guard for his assistance, the unnamed man curls his arm around my waist and forces my legs forward. Since we’re moving away from an assembly of people who could sweep my every wish out from beneath my feet, I let him.
Approximately five minutes later, we reach a hole cut into a chain link fence separating Substanz from the adjacent property, which is covered in a thick underbrush and weeds. The scene is as chaotic as ever, but with the focus centered on entrance and exit points, our escape goes unnoticed.
I eat my words when a deep, profound voice yells for us to freeze only seconds later. Without fear, my unexpected superhero dives through the fence, ignoring the repeated demands for us to stop or he’ll shoot.
