Chapter 16 - The Getaway
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The heavy steel door of the VIP room violently rattled. Someone was frantically trying to punch in the override code from the outside.
“Penelope, the front exit is completely blocked. They have ten men with automatic weapons in the main hall,” Larkin’s voice barked in my ear, the sound of distant gunfire already echoing through his comms. “Move to the service corridor behind the bar. There’s an exhaust vent that drops into the alley.”
I didn't hesitate. I kicked off the restrictive heels, grabbed the heavy ledger, and vaulted over the mahogany bar just as the VIP door blew open with a concussive blast.
Bullets shredded the expensive leather couches where I had been standing a second before.
I hit the floor, scrambling on my hands and knees toward the service door. I kicked it open, slipping into a narrow, dark hallway that smelled of stale smoke and bleach. I could hear Russian curses echoing behind me as the guards gave chase.
I found the exhaust vent at the end of the corridor. I kicked the rusted grate out, squeezed my shoulders through the narrow opening, and dropped five feet into the freezing, rain-soaked alleyway.
I landed hard on the wet asphalt, the air knocking from my lungs.
Before I could stand, the roar of a massive engine echoed down the alley. Larkin’s armored black SUV drifted around the corner, slamming into a dumpster and throwing sparks as it skidded to a halt inches from me.
The passenger door flew open. Larkin leaned out, his face a mask of terrifying, lethal focus, holding a suppressed submachine gun.
“Get in!” he roared, firing two short bursts over my head to suppress the guards pouring out of the back exit.
I scrambled into the leather seat, clutching the ledger to my chest. Silas slammed the gas pedal to the floor before my door even fully closed. The SUV tore out of the alley, weaving through the Brooklyn streets at terrifying speed.
Larkin threw his weapon onto the floorboard, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me violently across the console into his lap.
He didn't check me for injuries. He didn't ask if I had the book.
He crushed his mouth against mine, kissing me with a desperate, brutal relief that tasted like gunpowder and adrenaline. I tangled my hands in his dark hair, kissing him back, my heart hammering a frantic, explosive rhythm against his chest.
“Don't you ever,” Larkin breathed heavily, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes, “do something that reckless without me again.”
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“I got the ledger,” I gasped, holding up the leather book with a trembling, victorious smile.
Larkin looked at the book, then back at me, a dark, incredibly proud smirk touching his lips. “You are absolutely magnificent.”
