Page 7 of Love Undercover
A teacher, he thought dryly.
A sound outside her door sent a bolt of adrenaline through him, electrifying his muscles. They were out of time, and he still needed answers.
Because Calloway had disappeared, and she was the only lead. And not just for him.
Chase raised the pistol in his hand, pointing it vaguely in her direction, though still notather, to discourage an attempt on her part to use his distraction to her advantage. “We have to go.”
She blinked. “What?”
He gestured toward her bedroom, but she didn’t move. He huffed a sigh. This girl was seriously less scared than she should have been. “You want to look like your pretty throw pillows in about five minutes?Move.”
She tsked as he bum-rushed her toward her bedroom. “If we’re leaving, why are we going to my room?”
He didn’t answer as he shut the door behind them and moved toward her bedroom balcony. It was small, and he’d gauged the distance between hers and her downstairs neighbor’s when he’d scoped the place earlier. He could reach easily. But she was at least five inches shorter, and he’d have to catch her.
Still, he opened the slider as quietly as he could and took her by the arm.
She resisted, digging in her heels, then flinched when a thud came from the other room like the front door had banged against the wall. Her hair flew around her head, slapping him in the face as she jerked to look in that direction. Still, she worked against him.
He gritted his teeth. “If you want to die, by all means, stay here.”
She turned back to him, those amber eyes turning a chocolate color in the quickly diminishing light. “How do I knowyou’renot planning to kill me?“ she hissed.
He stepped closer to her, clamping both hands around her arms, the sense of urgency igniting his nerves, making it feel like his palms were on fire from the touch of her skin. “If I was going to kill you, I would’ve done it already,” he growled.
She relented only after hearing a rumbling voice from the other room and let him drag her toward the balcony. They both stiffened as the sound of someone moving toward her door carried to them. It lit a fire under her, and she willingly scrambled out with him.
He slipped his gun back into its holster and planted his hands on the railing of the balcony, swinging his legs over and dropping onto the railing below.
“Jump down. I’ll catch you.”
He heard a frightened little squeak then caught sight of two sandal-clad feet, followed by a firm, round bottom. Lifting his hands, he forced his mind through rounds of skip counting to distract himself as her butt fell into his palms.
His hands slid over her hips to her waist, and he lowered her to his chest so he could brace her weight against him. As he helped her slide down, her entire back side rubbed down the front of him. He started the alphabet backwards in Spanish as his mind sputtered over the full-body touch.
Instead of releasing her when her feet hit the ground, he slung them both over the railing onto the sidewalk on the other side, and she let out a surprised gasp as he pushed her forward into the parking lot.
Street lights flickered on with the sun now gone, though the sky held that orange glow in the distance that kept the stars invisible. Thank God he’d parked away from any light, tucking his car into a discreet corner.
She willingly weaved through vehicles with him, and it made the guilt and regret tangle in his gut to think what he had to do next.
He dug around in his pocket, not bothering to hide what he was doing as they approached his car. She might think he was just going for his keys, and she had reached the point of trusting him—at least partially.
He made a show of jangling the key chain to keep up the ruse until they reached the passenger side of the car, where he unceremoniously pushed her against the frame, whipped her purse from over her head, and yanked her hands back to zip-tie them.
She gasped, having no time to prevent the move.
He flipped her around, using his body to pin her. She looked like she was about to scream. So he did the first thing he could think of to silence her. It didn’t hurt that it was a question he needed an answer for.
“Where’s Greg Calloway?”
She balked, momentarily thrown off-balance. “Uh, what?”
“Your boyfriend, Greg.”
Irritation sparked in the glowing amber of her eyes. “He’snotmy boyfriend.”
He grunted to cover his laugh. The fact that she could be irritated instead of scared blew his mind. “You saw him today. Did he tell you anything? Give you something?”
