CHAPTER TWO CHLOE
CHAPTER TWO
CHLOE
NOW
Staring up at the plain apartment building, I check the address for the third time since I parked.
I know this is a safe house, but I just kind of assumed the Syndicate of the Legion would have mansions spotted around the city considering their vast wealth.
Paint cracks off the entrance in chunks, proving it’s been a long time since any upgrades have been done to the building.
I mean, I guess it makes sense. A safe house, by definition, is somewhere nondescript and under the radar. I just wasn’t expecting this.
Rounding the car, I pop the trunk and lift the first bag over my shoulder, readjusting my footing to stop myself from toppling over.
Maybe I should have had Ryker come, if for no other reason than to carry these in.
I glance around the street once more before huffing out a sigh and dragging the remaining bags from the trunk.
Okay, I think at this point I’m willing to admit I made too much, regardless of how many people are helping find them.
I make my way into the building, moving through the door sideways so the bags don’t snag on the way through.
A flight of stairs sits ahead of me, and for a few terrifying seconds I think I’m going to have to lug all this stuff up three floors, but then I catch sight of the elevator to the left and sigh.
Thank God.
I may keep myself in decent shape, but not three flights of stairs with an extra twenty pounds kind of shape.
My muscles scream to drop the cooler bags as the elevator ascends slowly, but something tells me I wouldn’t be able to lift them again if I allowed them off my burning shoulders.
By the time I make it down the hallway, there’s a sheen of sweat on my brow, and I’m breathing heavier than I would like. So maybe I need to up my training.
Allowing the heaviest bag to drop to the ground in front of the door, I raise my hand and knock.
Suddenly I’m not so sure this was a good idea. Not because I think Camilla’s guys would hurt me, because they wouldn’t survive to tell the tale if she ever got wind of it, but I have no idea who else is on the other side of this door.
Mafia families from all around the country were called in to help, and that means there’s an apartment full of criminals on the other side of the door.
The hum of voices quiets a moment before it swings open, revealing a tired-looking Bishop. His dark-blond hair has had fingers run through it a few too many times, and there’s no life in his green eyes.
Concern tugs at his features.
“What are you doing here?” he asks softly.
I lift the heavy bag from the ground, my arms shaking beneath the weight. “I brought some food over. I couldn’t sit around feeling useless.”
He sighs. “I told you to sit tight until we have more information. What if you were followed?”
I’m about to reply when I’m suddenly aware of warmth at my back, but I don’t get a chance to startle before a voice rumbles.
An all too familiar voice.
“She’s quite good at avoiding being found, aren’t you, Duchess?”