Page 105 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

“Run,” he shouted, as though he could read her mind. “Hide,” he whispered just before his body went limp.

As the electric charge cut off, Eddie Hanson fell to the landing. He wouldn’t be out long. With a sob and one last look at Evan, Annabelle staggered toward the door to her apartment.

The building swayed, and it felt like some steps took her forward while others took her back. She pushed open the door, then toppled through it and grabbed the back of the sofa to keep herself on her feet.

She could see the panic room now. Its door was open, ready for her to go through. All she had to do was make it there. She took one step. Then another. Her stomach lurched, and she fought the urge to vomit. All the while, great hiccupping sobs escaped her. Evan lay downstairs on the floor, bleeding. She’d left him there. And she didn’t even know if he was dead or alive.

There was a roar behind her.

Eddie was awake.

And the panic room was a million miles away.

The roads were wall to wall with cars. There was barely enough space to move, let alone speed toward the warehouse.

“Damn it to hell!” Noah slammed his hands on the dash in front of him. “It’d be faster if we just got out and ran.”

“No. It wouldn’t,” Rochelle snapped as she illegally squeezed between two vehicles before taking their SUV up onto the sidewalk for a second or two.

Horns blared, and Noah spotted several people with their phones out, filming them. The cops would turn up soon. Maybe that was a good thing. They could use an escort with sirens.

“I’m calling Johnson.” He pulled out his phone. “We need his help now we know he isn’t the mole.”

“We can’t be sure of that,” Rochelle said. “All we have is a skewed timeline and a missing ADA.”

Noah pinned her with a dark, anger filled look. “We’re sure, Rochelle.”

He dialed the detective. It rang a few times before he answered.

“This better be good,” Johnson said. “We’re up to our ears in it over here.”

“Margaret Grant’s your mole. She fooled us into believing Eddie paid one of the DA’s tech guys to smuggle Annabelle out of the warehouse. We now know that isn’t true, but we’ve lost contact with our people back at the building, and we’re stuck in rush-hour traffic trying to get to them.” He took a deep breath. “You need to send people to the warehouse. I think Hanson is there, and he has Annabelle.”

“Wait, what? You think Hanson’s at the warehouse and he has Annabelle? Why the hell aren’t you there protecting her?” It sounded like World War Three in the background.

“We were tricked into believing that the mole sneaked Annabelle out of the building in an equipment case. But she’s still there, Johnson. We can’t get our guy on the phone, and Eddie knows where she is.”

“I’m trying to stop all-out war here,” Johnson said. “I don’t have time to chase a theory.”

Noah’s hand curled into a fist as Rochelle gave up on trying to get through the traffic and took the SUV onto the sidewalk. She lay on the horn as a warning for people to get out of her way. One glance in the mirror told him that his team had fallen into line behind their vehicle, rushing through in Rochelle’s wake.

“He’s going to kill Annabelle,” Noah spat out. “Get people to the warehouse before it’s too late.”

“Hell.” Johnson must have covered the receiver, as Noah could hear only muffled voices. “McMillan and I will go there. We’re about ten minutes out, though.”

“Yeah, but you have sirens. See if you can get someone closer.”

“I don’t take orders from you, Merchant,” Johnson snapped. “But I’ll see what I can do.” The line went dead.

“Not sure that helped,” he told Rochelle.

She swerved over a corner, through a red light, and back onto the road. All hell broke loose behind her. They were getting closer. Only a few minutes from the warehouse now.

All he could do was pray they’d get there in time.

The door slammed open behind Annabelle, and the leader of the Demon Brothers stormed into the loft. Annabelle grasped the glass block wall as she glanced over her shoulder. She was so close to the panic room. Just a few more feet. But Eddie was coming up fast.

“I should kill you,” he roared. “But I need the money you’ll make me. And I want the money you have in your accounts. Yeah, I looked into you. Found out you were a rich bitch. That’s why those guys snatched you last time, isn’t it? Did they get what they were after? Did you give it up without a fight?”