Page 70 of Ruthless

Angela puts her finger in front of her lips, and we listen. Upon hearing nothing, she practically yanks me through the doorway to a room that appears to mirror the basement. The door shuts with a sigh, and our surroundings pass by in a blur as we head for a staircase.

Despite my best effort to remain brave, fear seeps in.

Focus.I need to pay attention to the layout just in case.This building lacks an elevator, so Angela and I creep up the steps two at a time until we reach the first floor, both of us panting.

With my hands on my knees, I pause.Shit, I should’ve used the elliptical in my apartment complex more regularly.“We…we should call Dante.”

“Can’t.” Angela straightens. “He’s in a Council meeting, and they don’t allow phones.”

Stung that she’s more familiar with his business and life than I am, I try to laugh it off. “How do you know all this?” I don’t think I do a very good job of masking my jealousy because Angela raises a brow.

“Relax, Sara.” Her voice is almost mocking. “He has these meetings once a month, and Gregor informed me of their rules after I tried calling about a patient once.”

Feeling a little foolish, I follow her lead and inch forward. A crash freezes us in our tracks. We pause for a good twenty seconds, and when no other threats emerge, we continue sneaking from one room to another. They cut the lights to this townhouse as well, which makes our trek seem even more perilous. For all we know, intruders lurk around the corner, waiting to trap us and do lord knows what.

From what little light reaches this space, the furnishings appear much simpler and more casual, and I find I prefer this aesthetic to the more impersonal one. It’s a silly thought to have in the middle of a siege, but I’m not exactly thinking straight.

We plaster our backs to the wall as Angela peers around bends for signs of life. At the next corner, she taps my arm to warn me to stop. A few seconds pass before she tugs on my sleeve in a clear signal.

Go.

Hunching low, I focus on keeping my steps as quiet as possible as I trail her. From the depths of the house, a board creaks, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. Angela snags the back of my shirt, saving me from crashing into a table.

Her harsh whisper cuts through the dark. “Staybehindme, Sara.”

I duck my chin like a scolded child.

You’d think I’d be better at protecting my own life.

Past the kitchen and closing in on what looks like a back door, I can see trees beyond the window embedded in the wood. Angela quickens her pace. “Almost there.”

Great, though for all we know, we’re rushing into a trap.

Shoving my anxiety aside, I hurry after her.

We’re only a few feet from the door when a figure in all black emerges from the shadows on the far side. The visible barrel of a semiautomatic pulses terror into my limbs. I duck by sliding onto my knees.

Terror burns cold in my mouth as I struggle not to scream.

Angela remains frozen with one hand on the knob. If the man outside turns his head, we’re cooked.

Acting on instinct, I pull her down beside me. The back of my head collides with the door, and I fight not to hyperventilate.

Through the window, the man outside speaks into a walkie-talkie. If I concentrate, I can make out soft murmuring through the wood.

“We’ve got someone inside picking up the package now. They should make contact within the next few minutes.”

My head spins.

AmIthe package?

I whisper close to Angela’s ear. “Is there another way around?” My own hushed voice barely registers over my drumming heart.

Her head jerks in a shaky motion. “There are more men parked in a van out front and next door. I was scoping out an escape route before I came to get you and saw them breaking in through the garden gate. Maybe we can overpower him and make a run for it?”

Considering G.I. Joe out there has a gun, I don’t love this plan, but it may be our only option.

Up close, I can smell the nervous sweat mixing with Angela’s citrusy perfume.