Page 6 of Wicked Intention

Every now and then, she paused in front of one of the expensive ground-floor stores, and while she pretended to window shop, she took the opportunity to look around. No one seemed to notice her, and she didn’t see the scarred man. After a couple of blocks of disinterest, she calmed down.

With the immediate danger over, she ran through the problems she faced. No passport—that was huge. The US embassy had closed a few years ago, so she couldn’t head there and claim hers had been lost. The underground market?

Zo did some quick calculations and decided she had enough cash to make it a possibility. It wasn’t foolproof, though. Even if she used an alias, her picture could be posted behind the ticket counter, with the government issuing a warning to be on the lookout for her. As soon as she checked in, an airline employee would report her. If that happened, the chances of escaping the airport before she was arrested were slim, but the alternatives to flying had problems, as well.

Getting out by sea wouldn’t be a simple thing. Rio Blanco was in the mountains, the ocean hundreds of miles to the west. She’d have to reach a port first, and finding someone to sail her out? It would take more money than she had.

The people in front of her came to a halt, and Zo looked up to see the Don’t Walk symbol glowing red. Leaving via land wasn’t easy either. Not only did she have the same distances to challenge her, but the borders were patrolled.

If it wasn’t for the civil war...

But there was a war and getting transportation to towns near the borders or to a port city for that matter wasn’t as uncomplicated as it used to be. For the right money, she could get a driver, but she’d have to trust him to actually get her where she wanted to go. Zo didn’t like those odds. She needed—

San Isidro. It wasn’t near a border or the ocean, but she’d practically grown up in the village and still visited regularly. She could find someone there to drive her.

Getting to the town wasn’t too hard. Buses picked up passengers around the city, so she wouldn’t have to risk boarding at a station. Even better, the driver would expect her to pay cash. It would be impossible for the police to monitor every bus.

Coming up with a decent plan eased some of her stress. Once she reached the border, she’d have to slip across on foot and hope to avoid the military, but there was always a weak link.

The walk sign came on, but before she could move, Zo felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. Police? Slowly, casually, as if she was merely double-checking to make sure the traffic had halted before crossing the street, Zo looked around. She nearly missed him.

Dead Eyes. Damn.

Moving with the others, she picked up her pace slightly.

She risked stopping, using the excuse of window shoppingto get a better look at her stalker in the reflective glass. As she watched, he gave a quick signal. Zo saw a second man return the gesture, nod shortly, and hurry down a side street. Her stomach plummeted.

Maybe she was wrong, but Finn had taught her too much about tactics to blow this off.

If the other man circled the block, she’d find herself cornered between the two—basic strategy. With buildings on her left and a busy street to her right, she’d have a hell of a time escaping once they put themselves into position.

Zo pivoted from the window and strolled as casually as she could manage. She glanced toward the street.

Six lanes filled with speeding cars, motorcycles, buses, and trucks.

She checked the doors to the nearest stores, but a clerk would call the police if trouble started, and Zo couldn’t trust the authorities.

The second man rounded the corner ahead of her. She’d read it right.

A honk brought her attention back to the road. Traffic had slowed. There wouldn’t be a better chance. Whirling, Zo plunged out onto the boulevard.

Chapter Two

HORNS SOUNDED, brakes squealed, but they only decelerated momentarily. She glanced over her shoulder. The two men were trying to follow, but traffic wasn’t slowing for them.

Zo ran. She had to get away from those guys.

Especially the one with the dead eyes.

Darting around a van, Zo bolted down an alley. A back door was propped open.Do the unexpected.She veered inside, bursting into the storeroom of a shop and startling a screech from a carefully coifed woman arranging flowers.

She couldn’t spare the breath for an apology, but Zo shot her a smile as she zoomed past and into the front of the florist’s. Slowing enough to yank open the door, she hit the sidewalk and headed away from the business district. Not a great way to remain inconspicuous, but right now, she was more worried about the bruise brothers than the police.

They weren’t behind her when she chanced a glance over her shoulder. The next time she looked, it remained clear. Zo moderated her pace to a jog, but she didn’t dare stop.

It wasn’t much longer before wide streets and smooth cement gave way to uneven cobblestones and roads too narrow for a car. That was Rio Blanco—an odd dichotomy ofmodern and old. Stepping into a shadowy alleyway, Zo waited, but the scarred man and his cohort didn’t appear.

She gave it another ten minutes before she felt confident she had truly lost them. Even then, she circled the area a few times to be as sure as possible that her tail was clear.

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