Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Aurora went upstairs to the rooftop deck. She had to get away from her apartment. Powdered sugar was scattered everywhere, and the place still smelled like Rick. Like his shampoo, and the faint masculine scent that was just him.
Rick’s body had responded to her during that kiss. That much had been obvious. But she’d thought that he liked her as a person, too.
She couldn’t believe she’d gotten things so wrong.
Aurora was a firm believer in second chances. She often didn’t trust first impressions, because so many people had trouble being their true selves with strangers. She was always willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt, especially if they’d met under difficult or stressful circumstances.
But her first impression of Rick had been spot on.
He wasn’t completely irredeemable. He had enough integrity to tell her now that nothing could happen between them.
But when they’d met, he’d seemed like the kind of guy who cared about status far more than she ever would. And about that, she had been right.
Why did she have such awful luck with men? Was it really so hard to find a nice, funny guy who wanted the same things she did? A guy who wouldn’t make her feel worthless, like her ex, and like Rick had today?
The only silver lining was that Rick had distracted her for several hours from the danger surrounding her.
She just wanted all of this to be over. But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
She hadn’t even heard from the sketch artist yet, and the sun was starting to go down.
So that would mean another night of uncertainty, not knowing if someone out there was searching for her.
Not knowing if, or when, Dominic Crane’s friends would be able to find her.
Did the Silverlake Syndicate know her name now? Did that man outside the police station work for them?
What if she’d been wrong to refuse Max’s offer of a bodyguard?
Maybe she’d been too hasty. Too wrapped up in her own personal history with her brother, blinded to the reality of what she faced.
Dominic Crane and his Syndicate buddies didn’t care about her need to assert her freedom from her brother.
“They might really be coming after me,” she said into the night. “What am I going to do?”
She hadn’t actually believed that until today, when she’d seen that man on the street and been convinced he meant her harm. She was going to have to call Max, eat her own words, and give in.
You win, Max. You win.
Just then, Aurora heard a shout.
The noise had risen over the ambient hum of the waves on the beach and the constant patter of voices along Ocean Lane. It must’ve come from close by.
She scanned what she could see of the street in front of the building but spotted nothing unusual. The low overhang at the entrance hid her view of the squad car.
Aurora crossed the deck and went to the other side, which overlooked the alley at the back of the building. This was where Lana had pointed out the other squad car just a few days ago. Looking down, Aurora could make out part of the police car. A bar of emergency lights spanned the top.
But there was something going on. Some movement in the shadows that she couldn’t see in detail, although she heard the echo of voices four floors below.
She leaned over the railing, trying to get a better view.
There was a slam that sounded like a door closing. And then she spotted a figure at the rear of the police vehicle. Opening the trunk, the person dumped something heavy inside, then shut the lid. The car drove away.
None of it made sense. What was that heavy thing? Why did the officer leave without someone replacing him?
Unease spread through her, a knowledge that something was off. But what should she do? Call the number for police dispatch that Lana had given her?
Yes. That was a good idea. Maybe there was an emergency nearby, and for some reason, they needed every officer to respond. Stranger things had happened, even in West Oaks. She pulled up the number on her phone.
Then she heard the quiet click of another door, but this one was much closer.
It was the door to the rooftop terrace.
No one was supposed to have access to this rooftop, except for her and Rick. Her heart fluttered. Had he come to see her? Maybe he regretted what had happened earlier and wanted to explain.
She couldn’t see the entrance from where she was standing. She held her breath, waiting. But no one appeared.
Was someone else up here? Someone who didn’t belong?
The entire world seemed to slow. Aurora’s body felt like it was stuck in place, like she couldn’t move. But she managed to take a small step to one side, ducking behind a large planter just as a figure stepped out onto the deck.
The man had a clean-shaven head and a close-cropped goatee. At first, she was relieved. It wasn’t the man from outside the police station.
But he held something long and dark in his hand.
A gun.
“I see you back there.” His voice was gravelly. Merciless. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to talk.”
She didn’t believe him for a second. Every nerve in her body screamed with alarm.
She was trapped.
Suddenly, another guy lunged out of the shadows, tackling the gunman to the ground. They rolled across the deck, fighting over the weapon. Aurora gasped when she recognized the newcomer.
It was Rick.
Rick punched the other guy’s face with two quick, vicious jabs of his fist. Blood spurted from the man’s nose.
With his other arm, Rick pinned the gun to the floor.
The thug tried to buck him off. They rolled again, and Rick twisted his legs around the thug’s waist, his arms tight around the man’s head in some kind of chokehold. He clearly knew what he was doing.
Rick’s foot kicked the man’s gun away. Aurora dashed over and grabbed the weapon as it skidded across the deck. With shaking hands, she aimed it at the struggling man.
“Rick, get out of the way.”
He spared only the tiniest glance at her. “Lower the gun, Aurora.” His tone was completely calm. He was hardly even out of breath. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
The other man was struggling in Rick’s vise-like grip. But Rick didn’t release the pressure on the man’s throat. The guy’s face turned red to purple, then his head jerked. All at once, he went limp.
Rick tossed the guy to the side and vaulted back onto his feet. He fixed an intense gaze on Aurora, walking slowly toward her with his hands out.
“You need to hand me the gun. Can you do that?”
She could hardly breathe enough to respond, but she twisted the gun around in her hand and held it out, butt first. Rick took hold of the weapon. He stripped out the magazine, then stuck the gun in one planter, bullets in another.
It was only then that she noticed Rick had another gun, this one strapped into a holster by his armpit. He hadn’t even drawn it.
“What the hell is going on?” Her voice was sharp with suspicion. He was not some hedge fund manager who had just happened to need a furnished apartment.
“No time. There are more intruders downstairs, and they’ve cut the camera feeds. I think they’ve tampered with our connection to the main office as well. We need to get out of here.”
“Downstairs? But I have to get back to my apartment. I need my purse.” She had left everything but her phone down there.
Noises came from behind them, and Rick pulled her down. She heard footsteps, voices. More people had just stepped onto the deck.
Then there were shouts. They must’ve found the other guy Rick had left lying there.
“Aurora, go.” Rick pushed her toward an alcove, where the top of a ladder was visible. “Take the emergency escape route. The one that’s just for the penthouse level. I doubt they’ll know about it.”
She nodded. There was a concrete-reinforced shaft with a ladder inside of it, leading to a special exit door. Max had reminded her after Wolfson’s murder. The door would only open from the inside, but from the exterior of the building, it was completely concealed.
Rick was right. That was their best way out.
The voices were coming closer. “But what about you?”
“I’ll catch up. Hurry.”
She crawled toward the alcove, found the ladder, and started her descent.