Page 29

“Going somewhere?” His voice was low, controlled, dangerous.

“Let go.”

“Not until you tell me what you were doing at the wedding.” His grip tightened. “And what you're doing here.”

I twisted, used his grip against him, broke free with a move I'd learned from men who'd taught me how to get out of holds. His hand caught my mask instead, fingers tangling in the elastic.

I bolted.

The mask ripped away in his hand. I heard him curse behind me, heard his footsteps as he gave chase.

A corridor stretched ahead. I ran properly now, no more pretence, just speed. Behind me, I heard him gaining ground—he was faster than he looked, moved like someone who'd trained for this.

The entrance. The receptionist looked up, startled, as I burst through. I didn't stop, didn't explain, just hit the door and exploded out into the November night.

Cold air hit my face. Rain was falling, a light drizzle making the pavement slick.

I ran left, toward the alley I'd scouted on my way in. Behind me, the door slammed open. His footsteps echoed on wet pavement.

“Stop!” His voice carried through the rain.

I didn't. Couldn't. The alley was ahead, narrow enough that his size would work against him. I ducked into it, boots splashing through puddles, one hand on the brick wall to keep my balance as I ran.

He was right behind me. I could hear his breathing, heavy and controlled, could hear the slap of his boots on wet stone.

The alley opened onto a side street. I burst out, scanned for options. Scaffolding climbed four stories up the building across the street.

I ran for it, grabbed the lowest bar, pulled myself up. My shoulders screamed in protest but I kept climbing, hand over hand, finding footholds in the metal framework.

Below me, I heard him reach the scaffolding. Heard him hesitate.

“Get down here!”

I climbed higher, breathing hard, muscles burning. Two stories up now. Three.

I looked down. He was on the scaffolding, climbing, but cautiously—his weight and size making every movement careful where mine was desperate and reckless.

I reached the top, hauled myself onto the building's roof. Flat, slick with rain, but open. I ran across it, jumped the gap to the next building—only four feet, easy if you didn't look down.

By the time I dropped to the street, three buildings away, I was shaking. Adrenaline. Rain. The sheer insanity of what had just happened.

Part of me was already looking forward to him hunting me down. I smiled despite the rain.