Page 6 of Nine of Swords
“Is it? Then tell me why it is that even after I released you all of nine seconds ago, you're still tucked up nice and tight against me?”
I take a big step away from him at his words and feel my cheeks burning hot from embarrassment. Or maybe it’s something else, but I sure as hell will never admit it to this bastard. “There's only one person in this room who's excited, and it's not me,” I say as I hurry off toward the entryway closet, aware of his immense frame looming behind me. “Or was that a gun in your pocket?”
“It was not. Guns are not my thing, unless absolutely necessary.”
“Interesting.”
“You know what you were rubbing against so expertly. Anyway, I think these swords, spears, and lances mounted on your living room wall are impressive,” he says, looking toward them for a moment as I sling my purse across my body over one shoulder, then slide each arm into the backpack straps of my GO-bag. “You have good taste in blades. That’s quite the collection.”
I roll my eyes, but still find myself replying with, “Thank you.”
“Too bad you wasted all this time arguing with me instead of packing them to take with us.”
“For Christ’s sake, will you stop? You’re beyond annoying.” I see him turn and stride toward the balcony off the living room. “Wait, where are you going?”
He turns around and returns to me. “Out the way I came in. And it's we.We’releaving here together.”
“No, we’re not.”
He nods, still pointing back at the balcony door. “Yes.Weare. On a related note, I meant to tell you that you made an excellent choice in GO bag brands. Military grade. Heavyweight fabric construction. Durable. Water resistant. Internal frame. Multifunctional. I can tell you went all out to get the best.”
Backing up to the front door, I shake my head. "No, we're not. At least, I'm not."
“Be sure to strap your bag on nice and tight. Trust me. Weare."
My hands fly up to my hips and I stand my ground. “There's no way you're going to get me to gear up and scale up the side of this building, past the penthouse level, to the roof.”
“You're not wrong.”
I snap together the shoulder and waist straps of my GO-bag and fold my arms. "Damn straight I'm not."
He cocks his head to one side and seems to narrow his eyes at me. "Do you want to know why?"
"No but I'm sure you're going to tell me."
"Because, young lady..." he starts, and in the dimness of the room, the metallic glint of something in his hand catches a flicker of light from somewhere outside. I know what that is, and I wish I didn’t. It’s one of those mountaineering carabiners. He clicks it onto my GO-bag before I can object. Then I hear two more clicks as he passes behind me and steps to my other side. "Because... we're not going up."
He doesn’t give me another moment to react. His arm comes around my waist from behind me again, and this time, he picks me up off the floor and makes ground eating steps as he carries me toward the balcony. I see the awaiting rope set he used to rappel down to my condo, and my heart drops to my gut when I realize what he’s about to do.
Whatwe’reabout to do.
The scream in my throat doesn't have a chance to make it out my mouth.My life flashes in front of me as he snaps two or three more items at my waist, turns his back to the see-through glass railings, and bounds over it.
With my body stuck to his.
He makes—no,wemake a controlled descent down the side of my condo building. All thirty-something terrifying floors, with the briskly cold night air hitting me hard from every angle. The ride seems to take forever but I know it’s only been seconds, and when he lands us in the dark alleyway beside my building, his feet barely make a sound when it touches the concrete sidewalk.
I still can't think, or talk, or walk right after that.
The clicks of his release sound distant behind me. Probably because I’m in shock. My legs start to buckle under me as he lowers me to the ground, and I feel his arm at my elbow, steadying me. And then, when I look up at the ropes he used as our getaway, I realize that this arrogant, overconfident son of a bitch just saved my life.
The heads, shoulders, and weapons-toting arms of more than a few men appear over the side of my balcony.
He wasn’t kidding that people we on their way up to me.
And he wasn’t wrong.
But that doesn’t mean I trust him.
