The Cocky Thief

Chapter 31

Melody turned down another corridor, but it was just more dusty shelves filled with dusty boxes. Every single door she'd found was locked, so it was dead end after dead end.

She forced herself to stop and listen, trying to get her heart to come back to a manageable beat. It was the only thing she could hear and if she wanted to survive, she was going to need her hearing.

Were those...? Yep. Footsteps. She'd slipped out of her sneakers almost immediately. It would be a bitch to be running around barefoot on the street, but in order to get onto that street, she needed to be quiet. On this floor, that meant no shoes.

But the guys after her were still in their boots, which gave her the one, and possibly only, advantage she'd get.

She softly went farther into the aisle and crouched down. She wasn't a quitter. So what if all the doors were locked? There had to be some way out. A back entrance, a secret elevator, an air vent: there was always a way. She just needed to make sure Blondie and Baldie stayed away long enough for her to find those secret exits.

She listened, but the footsteps had stopped. Did that mean whoever was on her tail was waiting for her to make a move? Or did it mean that they'd moved on to another section of the basement?

She couldn't stay where she was, though. If anyone walked past the aisle she was hiding in, there was no way they wouldn't see her. Maybe she could find somewhere to hide out for a few hours, but there was the chance that Stranger would call in reinforcements. She might be able to hide from two meatheads for the night, but what about five? Ten? Twenty?

She had no idea what was coming and she hated that.

Move. No matter what, she needed to move. She was just reaching the end of the aisle when she heard it. There were more footsteps, but these weren't the guys after her. It was the click-clack of heels on the hard floor. There was a woman down here, and not a stranger either. She knew that walk.

She opened her mouth to call out for her mother when a hand clamped over her mouth and she was pulled back against a hard body. The adrenaline kicked into overdrive and she wiggled and kicked and started to throw her head back. But the hand over her mouth tightened; his other hand went around her waist, rending her almost completely immobile.

"If she doesn't see you, she doesn't have to die," said the man ominously in her ear. She knew it was Blondie from the rough stubble that brushed against her neck as he spoke.

She went stock-still at his warning. He was right. If Isobel saw her, Blondie would have to take care of her. From the sounds of it, Isobel was alone and, although her mother was a certifiable badass, one-on-one combat had never been her specialty. And Stranger had been more than happy to take her. What would he do if he had the chance to get his hands on the fiancée who betrayed him?

The seconds seemed to stretch on. The man she was pressed against wasn't hard any longer, thank goodness. Well, every inch of him seemed hard, just not in that particular area. She was sure he could feel her pounding heart and tell just how scared she was, just as she could feel the slow and steady beats of his.

This was evidently no big deal to him. Threatening and kidnapping women. Probably murder soon. Just one more day on the job. He was warm. Strange. Logically she knew that even murderers had a body temperature same as hers, but it was so disconcerting to actually feel it.

Here he was touching her, and if she made a fuss, her mother could pay the price. Maybe Isobel had a plan. If Melody could get her attention, there was a chance—

More footsteps sounded, but these weren't Isobel's. "Who are you?" came her mother's voice.

"That doesn't matter," said Baldie's familiar voice. "You shouldn't have come." All of the sudden, a loud bang and flash filled the basement. Through the boxes in front of her, Melody could just see the shadowy figure as it fell limply to the ground.

She had been afraid before, but the gunshot filled her body with a shock unlike anything she'd ever known. Every single nerve ending seemed to be numb and on high alert at the same time as her knees gave out.

In the dim lighting, she was pretty sure that was her mother lying lifeless on the floor, but then a beam of light—a flashlight, she belatedly realized—crossed over the body's face. Isobel looked flawless, even in death. The only mark was the bullet hole right in her forehead. Oh, God, Baldie had gotten her right in the forehead...

For the first time, she was grateful for the hand over her mouth because she was pretty sure it was the only thing stopping her from screaming. Screaming so Baldie could hear her rage. Screaming so Isobel could have someone mourn her loss.

But all she could do was stand there as her entire world fell apart. Except then she wasn't standing. Blondie was pulling her back and when her legs didn't cooperate, she was suddenly floating in the air.

Not floating. She was being carried. He had one hand under her knees and one under her shoulders as he moved her farther and farther away from the scene of the...crime? Murder? Travesty?

It felt as if the entire world were on a five-second delay. Her brain just wasn't processing things right. Her mouth wasn't covered any more. She could scream, but what was the point? The only person who could help her was lying dead on the floor.

Blondie moved so fast that the breeze was cold on her face. Not all of her face, just the wet streaks where the tears had fallen. She was a fighter. She should be fighting.

But right now there was just no fight left in her. Her mother would be so disappointed. What a depressing thought to have right before she died...

She was abruptly brought back to earth as she was set on the ground and her back was pressed against a wall. Everything came back to her like a light switch had been flipped in her mind. No, there was actually light now. She glanced around at the small room Blondie had set her in. This wasn't a room. It was an elevator.

There was a flash of silver as he took a switchblade out of his pocket. She took a deep breath as she braced herself for the burn.

It never came. Instead, he reached down and cut the zip tie that had bound her hands ever since she'd been there.

Her eyes met Blondie's and for a second, a brief second that seemed to last forever, they were both still. Her own confusion was echoed in his face, as if he didn't really understand what was happening either. And then he backed away, hitting one of the buttons on the way out.

"I want you to leave," he said gruffly. "And never come back."

Of the hundred questions she had, all of her answers were denied as the doors slid shut. Suddenly she was left staring at her own reflection in the shiny silver doors.