Page 38 of Love at First Sighting
Chapter 10
Carter
“Is this you?”
El’s voice is so close it sends a shiver down my spine as her breath hits my neck. I know stealth hour is not the time for lust, but I allow myself half a second to think about how close her face must be to mine. How if she wanted to get closer and press against me for tactical purposes, I would not be mad at all.
Her fingers graze mine as we crouch to the ground.
“Leonard, can you get us out of here?” I ask.
“Shit,” he mutters. “The signal’s going in and out, and it looks like I’ve got a thirty-second delay on the cameras now. My directions could be way off base.”
El lets out a sudden gasp beside me, and she gropes up my arm to find my shoulders. She slips a finger underneath my suspender and holds on tight. While I’m sure she’s clinging to me for some kind of safety, it doesn’t feel like the responsibility falls solely on my shoulders. It feels like a plan to take care ofeach other.
“Copy that,” I say. “Catch you on the other side.”
I turn off the earpiece. I don’t want any distractions and Iwant to be as attentive as possible. I need to get myself and El out of here. I dragged her into this, and even though she pushed because she wanted to be here, I can’t risk anything happening to her.
And I won’t have answers about the family I lost.
I might also be in prison, so that’s no good, either.
“Don’t move,” I whisper.
Another door opens behind us and I hear the too-familiar click of PIS dress shoes on cold floors. It was the sound of Marcus coming home from work every night—usually late, after I’d already made myself a cobbled-together dinner. Irritated grunts as he sifted through the mail for the day and tossed his keys on the counter.
“Dang flabbit,” the guard mutters. Who in their right mind uses the phrasedang flabbitanymore? But if anyone’s going to, my first guess would be a PIS agent. Shit.
If it is, I hope to god it’s not someone I know.
A stream of light bleeds into the room. I clutch El’s arm and guide her across the floor, leading her out of his line of sight. We sneak into another aisle.
“Why are the damn lights off?” he says.
By the time the lights come back on, we’re out of his view. Now we can at least see, but he can also see us.
I draw a finger to my lips and step away from El. We quickly move to the next aisle and inch toward to the door. I keep one eye on the door, the other on El. While I’m sure I look like a deer in headlights, El is every bit the agent I’d want to be. Her face is determined as she evaluates each corner for opportunity and risk.
We’re nearly at the door, having successfully navigated several of the aisles, when someone shouts.
“Hey!”
I push El around the corner, but I don’t pull myself back fast enough.
“Oh shit,” El mutters. I don’t look back at her and instead take a big, dumb risk and step into the aisle. If El’s smart, she’s going to run for the door and use the distraction I’ve offered her. If one of us has a chance to get out, they tell everyone else the truth. Not to mention, I’m pretty confident she’d be willing to bail me out of jail.
“Hands where I can see them!” the guard yells. “What are you doing here?”
Committing treason, sir.
The guard approaches me. I don’t see any identifying PIS sigils or badges, so he may be just a security guard, which is excellent news. I hope a security guard isn’t privy to what they’re even protecting here. God knows, PIS has no idea what they’re protecting half the time.
Nevertheless, I put my hands where he can see them, because this guard doesn’t hesitate to draw his gun on me. Jesus Christmas, I really don’t want to get shot. PIS field agents have to go through weapons training and are typically armed in case of emergency or dangerous close encounters. I failed my weapons assessments despite studying for days and feeling confident, so I am severely and literally outgunned here.
“I’m not here to cause any trouble,” I say, but my voice shakes.
“Don’t move!”
