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They’re too damn scared of getting shot themselves.
“He’s gone.”
I pull out the flashy cell phone which really gives away that I might not be the homeless man I’ve been pretending to be, and show her the photo of the man in a pool of his own blood.
“Oh my God.” She claps her hands to her mouth in horror. “He’s dead. What happened?”
“He’s been shot, yes. And you are next.”
Her knees buckle. I use my spare hand to hold her, to stop her from falling. Maybe she should flinch away from me, but she doesn’t. The bond we’ve built up stands.
“You need to come with me. Now. I can keep you safe.”
Yeah, I’m not pulling this off well. Not with this damn gun in my hand. I’m going to have to really blow my cover to get her out of this clinic.
“I didn’t eat Kerosine for breakfast this morning.”
Her eyes damn near pop out of her head. Knowing her father’s password means I’m in her world, even in the periphery. It means I know enough. I’m definitely not ever going to be the poor homeless man who needs her help anymore.
Wilson Anderson is dead.
“How do you know that?” she whispers.
“It doesn’t matter now.” I don’t need to go into all the details. She doesn’t need to know that I’ve been trailing her and that I’ve overheard the password. “We just need to leave.”
I fire a blank into the ceiling to show her how serious I am. It causes screams and panic, but enough of a distraction for me to edge backwards with Emma in my arm.
I know she doesn’t exactly look convinced, but she’s moving and that’s something.
I fire the gun a few more times, continuing to do so down the block. My car is right around the corner, as long as I can get Emma in there, all will be fine.
“Come on,” I bark at Emma because she’s slowing down a little, uncertainty getting the better of her. She can’t stop here, not now. “We have to go.”
I hate the way all the color has drained from her cheeks. It sucks making such a kind person worry, but I can’t forget who her father is and how much this job is going to pay me.
“Stop fucking around, Emma,” I warn. “Things will get fucking messy here.”
When she doesn’t respond, I grab her arm a little rougher this time and drag her with me. I don’t want to hurt her, but the cops will be here in a moment. I wouldn’t be surprised if the sirens have started already.
Adrenaline is pounding through my body as I get Emma around the corner to the car. It’s still there, thank God, since I left it unlocked for haste. There’s no room for mistakes or for anything to slow us down.
“Get in,” I say gruffly once I swing open the passenger door. “Now, Emma. We don’t have time…”
She doesn’t want to. I have to push her in. Just enough to slam the door behind her so we can get the fuck out of here.
I dart my eyes around, grateful for no blue flashing lights or Hudson either, before I jump into my side and speed off.
Luckily I know these roads like the back of my hand. I don’t need to focus on where I’m going, which allows my mind to race like crazy, processing all the thoughts.
What the fuck was Hudson doing there?
Has he been hired for the same job as me? Because I’m not being fast enough?
Why is Vinnie Lucchese so damn desperate to grab the daughter of Dorian O’Connell?
This is supposed to be a bog standard job. I shouldn’t be all fucked up about this.
Thank Christ I have somewhere to go.
