Page 166 of Saving Her

“Please, listen to me.” I sink back into my seat and start raising my window.

“Stop,” he barks. “Get out of the vehicle.”

“Please,just look.” I nudge the window an inch higher, the circles of shattered glass now visible in the middle of the thick tint. “Those marks are from bullets.”

His brow furrows, the slightest sense of contemplation breaking across his face.

I need to come up with something to bring this home. Something convincing. Something he can’t ignore.

“Sir.” I lower the window again. “I’m in danger. I’ve been placed in witness protection. That’s why I don’t have any identification. But they found me.” The lies effortlessly slide from my lips, the instincts I’d honed in Greece finally awakening. “I need to speak to Anissa Fox of the FBI.Please. As you can see from the car, my life is at risk. They could come back any second.”

He snaps rigid, his attention stalking our surroundings. “What’s your name?”

“Penny.”

“Surname?”

“Please, officer, if you could just get in contact with Agent Fox she’ll know who I am.” She has to. She’s my only hope. “Please. I’m begging you. Just try and get in contact with her. She’ll know what to do.”

But what if she doesn’t?

The only connection I have with the Fed was a brief introduction in Greece. She was there when I was rescued. Yet, I never understood her involvement with Cole in the first place. They told me she was helping to take Luther down, only she hasn’t sought me out once since my return to the States. There was no investigation. No welfare check. I don’t even know if she lives in Portland.

“Stay in the vehicle.” The officer backtracks toward the patrol car. “Don’t move. I’ll return soon.”

I do as instructed, remaining still, barely even blinking as time passes and the contents of my stomach threaten to make an escape.

I sit there forever. The minutes accumulate into a mass of hysteria.

I never should’ve left the safety of the house and run off like a jealous teenager.

Under Luther’s rule, I’d been entirely stringent with my emotions. Now I’m reckless. A complete danger to myself. And others.

It isn’t until another car pulls in behind the cop that I pause my silent prayers for salvation.

The woman who opens the driver’s door isn’t entirely distinguishable through the glare of the patrol car’s headlights. She’s dressed in a pantsuit, sophisticated and empowered, but thankfully recognizable as the woman I briefly met in Greece.

She greets the officer at his car with a handshake. They chat in lowered voices, glancing toward me every few seconds.

I itch to run to her.To plead my case before anyone else is dragged into this mess. But within moments, the officer is climbing back into his patrol car and the confident woman is striding my way.

“Penny?” Her brows are furrowed, her eyes full of concern as she spares me a glance, then takes in the damage to the car. “What happened?”

“Can you help me?” I ask in a rush. “I need to get out of here.”

“Are you hurt?” She leans closer.

“No. I’m fine. But whoever shot at me could be watching. They could be anywhere.”

“It’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” She placates me with a raised hand. “Did you know who it was? Did you see them?”

“They were right next to my window. Closer than you are." A sleek black Porsche pulls in front of us as I speak. “But whoever it was wore a ski mask.”

My throat tightens at the unfamiliar vehicle. This could be the shooter. The only thing keeping me in place is the agent’s unflinching confidence. “Who’s that?”

She sighs, stepping closer as she watches the newest addition arrive to this mess. “Cole. The officer called him.”

The door to the shiny car opens. The formidable man climbs out and casually walks toward us. Dark suit, dark hair, dark eyes, and an even darker soul buried somewhere beneath. He fills me with dread, the resemblance to his father hitting me hard.

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