Page 66 of Never Forget

Every instinct screams at me to fight, but the large body pressing me against his chest is familiar.

“Easy,” Scott breathes against my ear. “It’s just me.”

His grip loosens just enough to let me breathe.

“It’s just me,” he repeats again before slowly removing his hand from my mouth and turning me to face him.

Scott holds up a finger to his lips, then points to the bathroom door. Clearly, someone is in there. After another few long moments of silence, I hear a muffled murmur. It’s almost too low to make out, but I think I hear, “Emerson, now really isn’t the—” followed by a slightly more audible moan.

If the situation at hand wasn’t so dire, I might laugh. Instead, I’m baffled and terrified at what might be happening here.

My eyes move to Scott again, surprised to find him calm and not looking at all guilty. Does he know I saw him steal Blake’s laptop?

Pointing to the backpack I know he stowed it in, I gesture for him to explain. “You’re stealing?”

“I know this looks bad, but I need you to trust me.” He looks back at the bathroom door quickly before pinning me with a severe expression. “I promise I will explain later. Right now, I have to go.”

“Wait! Scott!” I whisper-shout, jumping when I hear a soft thud from the bathroom.

“I can’t, Naz. I have to get out of here.”

Scott backs away from me, looking around the room almost frantically now. His eyes lock on Blake’s suit jacket, discarded on the edge of a leather sofa against the wall near the bathroom. Quickly making his way over to it, he unpins Blake’s security badge from the front pocket and tosses the jacket back.

“I’m sorry,” he mouths as he backs out of the room before spinning on his heel and walking swiftly away.

Not waiting for anyone to come out of that bathroom and catch either of us at the scene of the crime, I chase after Scott. Following him into the stairwell, I continue to whisper-shout his name, repeatedly asking him where he’s going between heavy panting and rapid footsteps echoing off the concrete walls.

Finally, after nine flights of stairs, I finally get his attention just before he opens the door that leads into the lobby.

“Scott, please—I thought you’d left me!”

Scott jerks to a stop and spins to face me, reaching out an arm to pull me to him. His lips crash against mine in a fierce kiss, his arm crushing me to his chest and lifting me off the ground.

“I would never willingly leave you. You know that, right?” His eyes search mine imploringly as he sets me down again.

“Then take me with you. Whatever you’re doing, wherever you’re going, take me.”

Scott tries to back away, but I grab his shirt and pull him back. “It’s not safe, Naz. What if something happens to you?”

“What if something happens to you?!” I snap incredulously, my shrill voice echoes in the stairwell. Tightening my fingers in his shirt, I yank him closer so we’re chest to chest. “I can take care of myself. But you’ll be there, too. You’ll keep me safe, right?”

Amber eyes burn into mine. “Always. Never forget it.”

“It’s settled then,” I say, releasing his shirt and taking his hand, lacing our fingers together tightly.

Scott sighs and takes my mouth once more in a quick, harsh kiss. “Okay, let’s go,” he huffs before pushing open the door.

He pulls me behind him as he makes a beeline for the front door. The lobby is mostly empty, except for Lawrence, who straightens from where he was leaning against the reception counter.

“Hey!” He shouts. “What the hell? Where are you–”

There’s a crackle of a walkie-talkie, then somewhere deeper in the building, shouts and the sound of multiple footsteps running.

Eyes wide, Lawrence pushes off the counter and races after us. “Stop right there!”

Neither of us look back, but Scott’s hand tightens around mine as we slam through the doors and out into the crowded city walkway. Several people curse or shout at us as we weave between pedestrians, sprinting as hard as we can. When I’m able, I chance a look over my shoulder and see Lawrence with a phone pressed to his ear, a small group of security guards standing nearby, searching the crowd for a sign of us. Lawrence’s eyes lock on mine just before he turns and goes back into the building.

We keep running for another two blocks, then take a left and keep going until we can flag a car down. Scott gives the driver a cross street somewhere in Midtown, then settles back against the seat beside me. The partition is down, the everyday sounds of traffic and the hum of tires over rain-slick pavement filling the silence as the lights and structures of the concrete jungle blur together.