Page 11 of Stolen Goods
Addy pivoted on her heels and scanned the empty kitchen.
The man was gone.
Wait. Where did you…?
“Hello?” she called aloud.
There was no response.
Her brows knotted—hadhe been a ghost?
She patted her pockets, her apron, searching for her cell phone. But no—it was gone. He’d taken it, which meant he was a tangible human being. He’d just, for the moment, disappeared.
Addy bit her lip with confusion.
Behind her, the front door to the bakerywhooshed open.
She breathed a sigh of relief.Of course, you dolt. He went outside to make the call in private. You still have time to thank him. And ask for his name. And do the best eyelash batting you’ve ever done in your life to convince him he can’t live without you.
Addy spun, prepared with a broad smile.
Then she froze for a second time that night.
Because it wasn’t the handsome stranger.
It was two men—with guns.
Her heart leapt into her throat, and a scream barreled through her lips before she thought to stifle it. “Ahhhhh!”
- 5 -
Thad
Shit! How the hell did they find me?
Thad cursed as two beefy men stepped through the front door, brandishing guns. He spun and dove silently into the open office behind him. With his back to the wall, Thad stared at the phone, thumb hovering over the name he’d finally found in the contacts—Baking Jo.He’d meant to send her a chat with their code word, pretending to be Addison, but he didn’t have the time for subtlety anymore. The only thing he could do now was make a call and hope the Feds didn’t have her cell phone tapped. If they did, they’d know exactly where he was. If they didn’t…
Do I risk it? Do I wait? Do—
A bloodcurdling scream interrupted his thoughts. For a moment, Thad swore he saw the glass window quiver from the nature-defying pitch.
Good lord, my ears.
He pressed his pointer fingers against his lobes, muffling the sound so he could focus on what he did best—escaping. Jo would have to wait.
There was a back door somewhere that led to an alley. His car was parked a block away, closer to the edge of town. There was no guarantee the Russians hadn’t slashed the tires before they’d come in, though Thad doubted it. Hitmen tended to rely more on the force of their weapons than the power of their minds, or maybe violence was the only thing going on inside their brains. Either way, it might work out well for him, if he could just figure out how to get to the car. If he were alone, it’d be easy—and a lot quieter. But as heartless as the outside world assumed he might be, Thad would never leave Addison there on her own. Not when he’d brought her into this mess in the first place.
Testing the waters, he loosened the pressure on his ears…then promptly reinforced it.Yup, she’s still screaming.
Okay, step one would be to shut her up.
Step two, open the door.
Step three, run like hell.
Not his best plan, but it could work—it had to work. He just needed to figure out how to disarm the Russians or at least stun them long enough to get away.
Think, Thad. Think.
