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And Harper… she has her own credit card. All she has to do is swipe and she can have whatever she wants. She doesn’t even act like it has a limit—maybe it doesn’t.
I shut off the water, grabbing a towel to dry my hands. Another person comes into the bathroom and I’m about to walk past them when I realize they’re coming right toward me.
It’s a woman maybe a few years older than me. She looks normal—hair in a messy bun, an oversized hoodie, and jeans. But when she pulls a gun out of her hoodie, aiming it right at me, I realize she’s not just a normal girl.
This woman walked right past Hunter, who is waiting outside the door for me. I’m sure he didn’t think anything about the fact she was coming in.
Knowing there is a door on the other side too, I take off running, hoping she doesn’t have a good aim.
I have no idea where to go. I just take off running realizing after that I should’ve run in the direction of Hunter. Instead, I ran the opposite way. It’s too late to change directions now because of the girl who is running behind me.
Her gun is hidden from view as she chases after me, which makes sense. It’s not like she could be waving a gun around in a mall, but something tells me this girl doesn’t much care about rules or laws—she just wants me dead and her bank account half a million dollars larger.
My heart is pounding as I race around people in the mall. They give me dirty looks as I weave through them, a few people even yelling at me to slow down. I ignore them because I know they’d be doing the same thing in my position.
Remembering that my phone is in my pocket, I pull it out. I can at least call Hunter and tell him there is a crazy girl chasing me. But it’s hard to run and look at my screen at the same time.
As we approach the end of the building, I get onto the escalator, running up. I even have to shove somebody out of my way.
“Sorry,” I yell, but don’t stop to check on them.
At this moment, the only thing I care about is getting out of here alive. Apologizes can wait until later.
Looking down at my phone as I run, I pull up Hunter’s number and hit call. But before I can even put the phone to my ear, the sound of a gunshot goes off. I dunk as I run, just on instinct.
I guess the girl no longer cares about keeping her gun hidden.
I hear screams of terror as everybody else in the mall heard the gunshot. I want to tell them not to worry—this girl doesn’t want to hurt them. It’s me she wants dead.
Now, I am not the only one running. It’s harder to dodge the crowd now, which is probably what the assassin wanted. She wanted to make it harder for me to get away.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see that she’s gaining on me now.
The girl looks so innocent—barely older than a teenager. She looks like a college student out for a day trip to the mall. Nobody would ever suspect her.
I look back in front of me, just in time to collide with somebody else. Hands on my shoulders steady me for a moment before I am spun around.
Sander, I realize.
I know that seeing him means that I am safe, but I would feel a lot better if Hunter was here.
Hunter must be freaking out right now. I never came out of the bathroom and he heard gunshots. He’s probably running around like a crazy person, trying to find me.
Then I realize—my phone!
I’m about to put it up to my ear when Sander pulls out his own gun. The girl isn’t expecting it because her eyes widen a fraction before Sander’s gun goes off. It happens faster than I can even process. One second, the girl is reaching for her own gun, the next she is falling backward onto the hard floor. I never even hear the sound of a gun going off and Sander is putting his gun away before anybody even sees that he has one.
I tremble, my legs suddenly feeling very weak. I’m about to fall over when Sander grabs hold of me to stop me from falling.
“Hunter is on his way,” Sander assures me.
I nod mindlessly.
Hunter—that is who I need to see. I’ll feel better if I can just see his face and know that he’s okay.
Everybody in the mall is still running around, screaming. Some people even step on the dead assassin as they race toward the exits. It’s every man for himself.
Sander pulls me away from the crowd, toward a bench where nobody is sitting. Well, obviously they’re not sitting. They’re all running. He tugs on my arm to get me to sit down. My legs feel like noodles as I take a seat, trying to breathe.
