Page 87 of Himbo Hitman
“Long story,” I mutter, and then a thought hits me. “Wait. They don’t know we’re here. Shit. Okay. Thanks, Tommy.”
“What do you?—”
I hang up before saying any more, then turn to St. Clare and Lars. “No one knows we’re here.”
“They’re parked right outside,” Lars reminds me.
I wave the logic away. “Outside, yes. Here, obviously. Buthere…” I stomp my foot and gesture either side of me. “No one in their right mind would think we’re in a fucking penthouse.”
“That’s a good point …” St. Clare says.
“But what if the doorman told them?”
“In that case, we’re fucked, but Walter didn’t seem like a snitch, so we’re going to have to take the chance.”
The way I see it, they know I’m in the building, but to find me, they’re going to have to check out every fucking room in this place to narrow down where I could be. They want to get in and out fast, and that isnota fast way to get through things.
Which means Walter is their key to figuring out where we are, so they’re either in the lobby, scaring the hell out of that sweet old man, or they’re already right outside the door.
We won’t figure out which one unless we get going.
“Okay. Plan.”
Lars has the audacity to look shocked, but I keep talking before he can waste more time.
“I’ll go out first. If I’m shot, you know they’re out there. If I’m not, we’re in the clear. We’ll all get in a separate elevator, go down to the first floor, find a window or an apartment that opens onto the back streets, and jump out from there.”
“From a first-floor window?” St. Clare’s eyes go wide.
“Of course.” I cuff his shoulder. “You’ve got this.”
I don’t actually know that any of usgot thisor if I’ll even be alive long enough to find out that answer, but here we fucking go. Shitty shitty, bang bang and all that.
I pull out my gun, puff out a quick exhale, and take off the safety. Once we’re out of here, we can work out what’s next, but I can’t lie, I’m going to miss the penthouse. I didn’t know beds could be so comfortable or that kissing a man could be so hot.
For one stalling second, I want to ask Lars if our horoscopes say we’ll survive this, but if that answer is no, I don’t want it.
I’m gonna manifest myself one more day.
“P-Perry,” St. Clare starts from behind me.
I shush him, grab the handle, and yank the front door open. The hallway is deserted, just one long stretch of bare wall with fancy lights that opens to the elevator bank at the end. I can’t make out anyone lurking down there, but my heart isthadum-pingheavy and loud as I grip the gun harder.
I give myself a second to scan the area before stepping out into clear range.
My guts don’t immediately end up on the floor.
So that’s a relief.
It doesn’t do much to settle the rage of adrenaline overriding my system, and I jog the length of the hallway to the elevators. A moment later, St. Clare and Lars bolt after me.
“There’s only one,” Lars points out.
“There are more a few floors down. You two can get out there and find another one. Then we meet down there.”
“Okay.”
“What if there’s no one actually after us?” St. Clare asks.
