Smitten || DeAndre Jordan {Crush Sequel}

Chapter Twenty Three

Camila

"Cami!" DeAndre's urgent voice penetrated my sleepy mind as he shook me violently.

"What is it?" I asked, sitting up immediately.

"Get your shoes on. We've got to go right now!" He was frantically throwing on his shoes, tying the laces.

I quickly did what he asked, wondering how we'd gone from a nice relaxed evening to this.

"What's happening?" I grabbed my purse as he shoved his wallet back into his pocket.

"Turn off your cell phone," he ordered me as he shut his down. "We've been made. Apparently, there's a dirty cop her in Vegas. He intercepted Chris' report and blew our cover to Jason and Adam. Adam's thugs are on the way here right now. Mary managed to text me a warning. She said they don't know my real name, only that an undercover officer had infiltrated, but they know it's me." He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door as I pushed the button to shut down my phone.

"We've got to get lost here and find a safe place until we can get help. I can't trust the police, because I don't know who the leak is."

My heart was racing, and I wondered if I was stuck in another bad nightmare. "Please tell me I'm dreaming," I muttered.

"I wish I could, Goody." He opened the door and peered out into the empty hallway. "Let's go."

We ran down the hallway toward the circular sitting area, which had several halls branching off from it. DeAndre paused for a moment, glancing between the hall of elevators and the bridge that led to another section of the hotel. "This way," he said, guiding me toward the bridge.

The elevators dinged open behind us, but we didn't pause to look and see who it was. A guard sat halfway down the breezeway, and he stood, staring at us curiously as we hurried toward him.

"That's them!" I heard an unfamiliar voice behind us.

"Help," DeAndre said to the security guard. "Those guys behind us tried to rob my girlfriend."

Immediately, the security guard reached for his taser and called for extra reinforcements. DeAndre didn't stop running, dragging me through the maze of halls as I tried desperately to match his long strides.

"Keep running!" He ordered. "The guard won't be able to hold them all off."

Busting through a set of doors that marked an emergency stairwell, we clamored down them as quickly as we could. My breath was coming in short, fast bursts, and I noticed his was too. We hit the door at the bottom, continuing down the corridor. Ahead, I could see the exit that led out into the street, and we made our way toward it, surging through.

He glanced around quickly.

"Which way?" I asked, nervously checking behind us.

"We need to get away from the most cameras. They can track us that way." He huffed. "I think we need to stay off the strip." We started running again down the sidewalk, weaving our way through the throngs of people, rudely bumping and jostling them. Several shouted as we passed by, but I was too scared to worry about apologies.

When we hit the corner, DeAndre pulled me down the side street, never breaking his pace. I could feel my strength waning. I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to keep this pace. My lungs felt like they were on fire. "DeAndre, I've got to catch my breath," I pleaded.