Just Bob (Assassins Inc. #1)(23)

This guy certainly wasn’t a prize.

In fact, I was smart enough not to mention that to him. No matter how much I wanted to tell the man what I actually thought of him, I stayed tucked behind Sinclair’s wheelchair and kept my lips sealed shut.

I was smart like that.

“Just go find Councilman James and tell him the human is waking up,” Sinclair said. “He wanted to be informed as soon as he did.”

“You do it,” Simon snapped.

“I can’t,” Sinclair insisted. “I have to watch the human.”

“I can watch him.” That tone was way too eager for my liking. I prayed Sinclair told this guy to pound sand.

“You?”

“I can do it.”

“Look, Simon—”

“Come on, Sinclair. If I don’t do it now, I’ll probably never get another chance.”

My heart lodged in my throat when Sinclair said, “Fine.”

Was he insane?

“Just don’t do anything stupid. If you mess with the human before James has a chance to question him, your ass is going to be in a sling, and I won’t interfere.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Simon sounded way too excited—in a creepy, skin crawling sort of way—making me really glad I wasn’t actually unconscious in some room he was about to guard. I seriously doubted that I would escape with my virtue intact.

I pressed my hand over my mouth to keep from squeaking in fear when I suddenly felt something touch my arm. It wasn’t until I looked that I realized it was Sinclair. He was gesturing for me to move forward.

For a moment, I thought he was insane until I realized what he wanted. As Simon started around Sinclair’s chair to move past us, I crept forward, keeping the wheelchair between us as much as possible while keeping my head ducked down.

I don’t think I started to breathe again until Simon’s shadow disappeared down the hallway.

“Move!” Sinclair growled out. “He’s going to figure out you’re not in there any second now. We need to be gone by then.”

I was all for moving.

“Can I help?” Sinclair raised a brow at me so I gestured to his chair. “Would it go faster if I pushed your wheelchair?”

“Oh, no. I’m pretty fast.”

If he said so.

“Okay, just point me in the direction of an escape route.”

Sinclair started wheeling his chair, his hands moving quickly over the rubber wheels. “Just start running. I’ll tell you when to turn.”

I took Sinclair at his word and started running down the long corridor. I had no idea where I was headed, but I wanted to put as much distance between me and that room—and Simon—as possible.

“Turn left,” Simon called out when he came to a T-section in the hallway. I was kind of surprised to find him right beside me, considering I had been in an all-out run. Maybe he could keep up.

I turned left and kept running. This hallway didn’t look any different than the other one.

I hoped Sinclair wasn’t lost.

I was.

When the hallway ended in a large steel door, I stopped and glanced at Sinclair. “Now what?”

“This is the door leading out of the basement to the garage. Very rarely is there a guard in the garage because you have to go through a manned gate to leave the estate. There would be no point. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. From here on out, we have to assume there is someone around every corner.”

I gulped.

Hard.

“Okay, I can do that.” Like I wasn’t already doing that. I pretty much assumed I was about to die.

“Move to the corner. I need to check to see if the coast is clear.”

I moved over to the corner behind the door. I felt a lump in my throat as if my heart had permanently lodged there as I watched Sinclair open the door.

Oh crap.

The coast wasn’t clear.

Sinclair looked up at me with stricken eyes. “Run!”





Chapter Eight


Shade



I rubbed my hand over my face.

My eyes ached.

My head ached.

My heart ached the most.

Bob had been missing nearly twenty-four hours. There was no clue to where he had gone or who had taken him. The lack of scent in his room bothered me the most. It had been there at some point, but faded over the last several hours.

I know Bob hadn’t taken off—even if Stryker had suggested it as a possibility. Bob wouldn’t do that to me.

I hoped Bob wouldn’t do that to me.

At the very least, I knew he wouldn’t leave his cat behind.

No. I was positive that Bob had been taken. I just didn’t know how or by who. I did know it had something to do with whoever had put a hit out on Bob. It had to be. As Bob said, no one else would care.

I cared.

I cared so much I could barely function. Just knowing Bob was out there somewhere, being held against his will, was gutting me. I knew he wasn’t dead. We were mated. I would feel it if he was gone. My soul ached, but it hadn’t been ripped out of my chest.

Not yet, anyway.

I glanced up when Stryker walked back into the apartment. We had already searched the neighborhood, trying to find some trace of Bob, even a scent. There had been nothing. It was like he had disappeared into thin air.