Hidden Away (KGI #3)(2)

Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.

She had to be on time. She wouldn’t let Marcus go through with it.

Stupid. So stupid.

She should have known. She’d seen the rage in Marcus’s eyes. He’d been way too quiet. Too collected as he’d calmly told her that he was taking her away. She hadn’t argued. She’d allowed him to make all the plans. All the decisions. She hadn’t even known where they were going, only that Marcus’s private jet was fueled and waiting for them.

Finally the elevator doors slid open, and she rushed into the reception area and turned in the direction of Allen’s office. She saw Allen’s door wide open, saw Marcus’s profile and then watched as Marcus tucked the gun back into his waistband.

Her horrified gaze tracked downward to see Allen Cross lying on the floor, blood staining his pristine white shirt.

Her hand flew to her mouth and she backed hastily away.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

She was too late. She hadn’t gotten here in time.

Allen was dead. Marcus had killed him.

Oh God.

Nausea welled in her throat. She nearly tripped on her feet as she steadily backpedaled. She had to get away. The police would be here soon. Wouldn’t they? Surely someone couldn’t just walk off the streets and kill someone in an office building.

She turned and ran back toward the elevator, praying it was still there. She knew that at least two were taken out of service on the weekends, but that left two working on this side of the building.

She jabbed at the down button with her thumb and held her breath, prepared to make a run for the stairs if she had to. The door slid open and she fell over herself getting in. She punched the button for the ground floor and turned just as the doors started to close, only to find herself staring at Marcus’s frozen expression several feet away.

“Sarah—”

The doors closed, cutting him off. The elevator descended, sending Sarah’s stomach into even more turmoil.

She simply couldn’t process what she’d just witnessed. Marcus had killed Allen Cross. She couldn’t even muster any regret. Only fear. Fear for Marcus. How could he think he could get away with something so bold?

The elevator came to a stop and she shoved at the doors, trying to make them open quicker. She pitched headlong into the lobby, stumbling to gain her footing. Just as she righted herself, a hand curled around her arm and yanked her upright.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

She gasped and stared into the eyes of evil.

Stanley Cross, Allen’s brother, gripped her arm until she cried out in pain. His eyes sparked fury, but more than that, they warned her of just what kind of man he was. She knew all too well.

A sob welled in her throat as she faced down the man who was in her nightmares for the last year. She hadn’t seen him since that night in Allen’s office when he and Allen had forever changed the course of her life.

She hated them both more than she ever imagined being able to hate another human being.

Fear paralyzed her for what seemed an interminable amount of time. Her throat closed in and the ball in her stomach knotted painfully until it was all she could do not to vomit all over Stanley’s shoes.

“I asked you a question,” Stanley snapped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Oh God, he’d find Allen’s body and think she murdered him. Or worse, he’d see Marcus and then Marcus would go to jail. Stanley could place them both at the scene. Even if she wasn’t herself accused of the crime, she could be forced to testify against Marcus.

Something snapped inside her. Rage mounted and swirled like a tornado. She thrust her knee into his groin, balled her fist and swung as hard as she could just as he howled in pain and doubled over.

Her fist met his jaw and he went sprawling.

As he started to scramble up, she ran for the entrance, burst into the night and bolted toward the street. She saw an off-duty cab rounding the corner and she ran in front of it, her arm held up to stop him. The cab screeched to a halt a mere inch from her knee. The driver threw his fist out the window, and obscenities blistered the air.

Ignoring his outrage, Sarah yanked open the back door and crawled in, slamming the door behind her. “Drive!”

The cabbie gave her a disgruntled look in the rearview mirror, then accelerated sharply, muttering about crazy women as he swerved through traffic. “Lady, I was not in service.”

“I’ll make it worth your while. Just drive!”

He heaved an exasperated sigh. “Where to?”

She slammed her eyes shut for a moment as she sought to regain her bearings. Where could she go?

Think. God. What did one do in a situation like this?

She stared down at the purse slung over her neck. She had some cash, her passport, a credit card, her driver’s license. She couldn’t go back to her apartment, could she?

Stanley would have found his brother’s body by now. He’d probably already called the police.

Think, Sarah, think!

“Airport,” she managed to get out.

Her cell phone rang, startling her. She rummaged in her purse and turned it over to check the LCD. Marcus.

Tears burned her eyelids. Her brother. The one person in the world who loved her. He was all she had and now he’d killed for her.

She opened the phone and put it to her ear.

“Sarah,” Marcus barked before she could even get a greeting out.