Page 80 of King of Cruelty

“Just a minute.” I pulled up my web search. “I need to get the address.”

Finding what I was looking for was easier than it should be. All too blessedly soon, the address flashed on screen.

“1526 Bay Breeze Court.”

She tipped her head. “On the way.”

The car pulled away from the drive, joining the flow of traffic just as the green car jerked to a stop next to the bleeding woman. A dark-haired guy climbed out, rushed to her side, and shouted for help as we turned the corner and disappeared.

I STOOD ON THE SIDEWALKoutside the apartment building, bouncing Laurel in her carrier.

Thank goodness my sister was always prepared for everything. We lost her stroller, but Laurel was still perfectly happy kicking and cooing at strangers with me strapped to her back.

I blew out a hard breath. “I’m going to need your help on this one, baby girl, okay? Turn that cute up to maximum.”

“Da!”

“That’s right, Laurel.” I stroked her cheek. “This is all to help Da.”

Steeling myself, I walked straight up to the doorman. He took one look at innocent little me with my cute baby niece, and waved us in with a smile.

“Hello,” I said, stepping up to the receptionist. Her nametag read Mrs. Cole. “I don’t know her apartment number, but if you call up and say Mackenzie Blaine is here to see her, she’ll let us in.” I told her who we were here to see.

Severe silver glasses and sharp brown eyes looked down at me even though she was sitting—until she flicked to Laurel.

The baby smacked her little fists on the counter, screeching and babbling her good time.

The stern mask cracked like an egg, letting loose and wide, an awwwing smile. “Sure. That won’t be a problem.”

Nice job, Agent Laurel. Mission success.

“Please, have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the leather couch tucked between two fake leafy plants. “Help yourself to some lemon water.”

“Thank you.”

I helped myself to a lot of lemon water—gulping down two cups before Mrs. Cole picked up the phone. Sprinting around the park scared out of my wits dehydrated me something fierce.

“Miss Blaine.” Mrs. Cole set the phone back on the cradle. “You can go up now. Apartment 403.”

I thanked her and made for the elevator.

All the way up, I counted and recounted the ways this was a bad idea. I was going off a random text from my sister that she sent after a random idea occurred to her. She didn’t have any more proof than I did that I had a right to be here.

But I also had a right to walk through the park with my niece on a bright, sunny day without worrying about assassins chasing me. Or at least I thought I did.

So right now was a time to take a leap of faith, and take a chance on a safe place to hide out where no one from the Brotherhood or even Mackenzie would think to look for us.

The elevator dinged open, and I came face-to-face with Lyla Dawson.

“What the hell are you—?” She cut off, blinking at me. “Oh. You’re not Mackenzie. You’re the other one. The sister. And...” Lyla stared at Laurel like she’d never seen a baby before. “What do you want? Where’s Mackenzie?”

“She’s not here.” I stepped off the elevator which forced Lyla to step back, letting me in the hallway. “I used her name becauseI knew if you heard Mackenzie Blaine was here to see you, you’d be too curious to send her away.

“It worked.”

Lyla scowled. “Yippee for you. You got as far as my hallway. Now you can turn around and leave. I’ve got nothing to say to you.” She gave me her back.

“You don’t want to know why I’m here? Why I came all this way just to talk to you?”

---