Page 42 of Detectives in Love
My breath catches in my throat, heart hammering as we tear up the stairwell. Xavier stays a few steps ahead, glancing back constantly to make sure I’m still with him. We hit the fifth floor in under a minute—and my stomach flips when I remember what’s ahead.
Two ladders. One up to the roof. One down from it.
Xavier scrambles up the rope ladder first and slams his palm into the hatch. It doesn’t budge.
“Locked?” I pant, peering over the railing. Flashlight beams flicker below, sweeping up the stairwell. “Xavier?”
He doesn’t answer. Just hits the hatch again—
BANG!
It creaks open with a groan, letting in a blast of freezing air.
“Newt!” he yells. “Let’s go!”
I grab the rope and climb. We haul ourselves onto the roof, moonlight spilling across the concrete. Xavier slams the hatch shut behind us. There’s no lock. And no time to try barricading it.
Xavier doesn’t hesitate. He leaps onto the parapet, back to the edge, and steps off without so much as a glance.
My heart stops. I rush to the edge where he disappeared and spot his dark hair a few rungs down.
I let out a breath. “Jesus, Xavier.”
“You coming?” he calls up, glancing at me from the ladder.
“Yeah,” I mutter, snapping out of it. I step onto the parapet. The ladder doesn’t look like it’ll hold much more weight, but there’s no time to hesitate. I grip the freezing metal and start climbing down.
Below me, Xavier suddenly lets out a laugh. Then another—wheezing now between fits.
“What?” I whisper harshly. “What’s so funny?”
He tries to hold it in but fails. “It’s three a.m.…we broke into a crematorium…and now we’re running from security guards with criminal records…”
“Shut up, Xavier,” I hiss. “We’re gonna get caught.”
But it’s too late—laughter’s already creeping up my throat, and once it starts, I can’t stop it. Xavier’s laughing harder now, which only makes it worse.
“Knock it off,” I whisper, breathless. But it’s useless.
We’re still laughing when a loud thud sounds from the roof above. The hatch is open.
And then everything turns to shit.
A guard’s red, puffy face appears over the edge—followed by meaty hands grabbing for the ladder.
“Freeze!”
“Xavier, are you down?” I shout, peering over the edge just as he hits the ground.
“I’m down! Come on, Newt!” he yells—right as the ladder jolts under me.
Metal screeches. My stomach drops.
I look up. The guard is shaking the ladder like he’s trying to throw me off.
My grip slips—and suddenly I’m falling.
It’s a fifteen-foot drop, and I hear Xavier scream my name just before the impact. Something gives under me, breaking the fall. The breath is knocked clean out of my lungs. Pain spikes through my back, but I’m alive.
