Page 279 of Lorenzo

Donna shifts closer to one of the clothing racks and peers carefully toward the street. “If Mario is coming, this gives us a better chance of seeing him before Greco sees us.”

We keep moving through the sales floor until we reach the front entrance, staying behind the racks long enough to make sure no one is standing directly outside. The rain still sheets across the windows, and from this far down the strip I can no longer see our wrecked SUV or the store where Greco first cornered us.

Donna edges closer to the glass and looks out toward the parking lot.

“Clear enough.”

We have spent long enough moving through the building. Every minute we stay inside gives Greco more time to figure out where we went, and once his people start checking storefronts instead of the corridor, this stops being an advantage and becomes another trap.

We crouch by the front door, and Donna gives Mocha a quiet command to “Watch.”

His attention snaps toward the parking lot.

I ease the door open and let him look first. He gives no warning, so I step out beneath the awning with my gun ready and sweep the nearest section of the lot.

Nothing moves.

“Come on.”

Donna follows immediately with Mocha beside her, and we leave the shelter of the store behind, cutting across the parking lot rather than heading back in the direction of the ambush.

The rain is heavier now, enough to blur the lights farther down the road, but it also works in our favor. Anyone watching from a distance has the same visibility problem we do.

Donna comes up beside me. “Where are we going?”

“Away from the strip.”

“That I figured out.”

“There’s a side street past these buildings. If we can reach it, we can put another block between us and Greco before he even realizes we’re not in the building anymore.”

She nods and keeps moving.

But we don't make it quite as far as I had hoped.

We only make it halfway across the parking lot before a shout cuts across the lot behind us.

I turn just enough to see movement near the storefront, several figures spilling out beneath the awning we just left.

“They found us,” Donna says.

Gunfire cracks through the rain before I can answer, and I grab her arm as we both veer toward the corner of the building rather than continue straight across the open pavement.

“Move.”

She does, with Mocha keeping pace beside her as we run for the narrow gap between the end of the strip and the next building.

Another shot follows and hits the brick just as we round the corner to take cover between the buildings.

“That was too damn fast,” Donna says, panting.

“Greco’s very motivated,” I respond.

“I can't wait until I never have to hear that guy's name again,” she says, tilting her head back against the brick for just a second.

“It won't be long until you don't have to,” I promise her.

Her mouth twitches, but the sound of footsteps splashing through the lot wipes the expression away almost immediately.